Line in the Sand
by SpacedOutAnna
Summary: Set to follow the time line of 'Order of the Phoenix' : We enter the heart of the Slytherin dungeons and follow the seventh year Slytherin class through this tumultous year when they live, learn, love - and pick their sides for the ensuing battle to come.
1. Chapter 1

Line in the Sand

...pick your side...

By SpacedOutAnna and SamyBear

Authors' Notes: This is a slightly AU fic set to follow the time line of 'Order of the Phoenix'. While Harry and crew are in Fifth year, the Seventh Year Slytherin class has a lot of learning, living and of course, loving to do...

It was the first time in over a century that a male Parkinson had spoken to a male Montague in anything other than scathing tones or forced, polite formalities. No, these two men were predictably engrossed in a conversation about Quidditch, and last year's Tri-Wizard Tournament, which led to an intense if quiet discussion of the current political climate.

Pansy and their mother had quickly fled her presence, preferring the company of Draco and Narcissa Malfoy. Jasmine knew she wouldn't be a welcome hanger-on and decided to leave her sister to catch up with her boyfriend.

Her sisterly benevolence had her stuck staring, or rather glaring at, Edward Montague. Handsome, dashing, talented Quidditch playing Edward. Whom she despised with every inch of her five feet and seven, well six and a half but it was close enough, inches. 

"Ed, come meet Mr. Parkinson here."

'Thank the gods for small miracles,' Jasmine just wanted to find Sheraton and Aemelia, her two best friends in the Slytherin house, and of course, Adrian. Her plans for him may have to wait until later unless she succeeded in scaring some first years out of a compartment.

She hadn't seen him since early July, and that had been an intriguing encounter. The Pucey's had never been keen socialites; making a summer romance with smouldering Adrian near impossible -Jasmine had gotten very close. The memory of being pressed against the tall bush in the Flint's maze while Adrian ravaged her neck with his mouth was still a very clear memory for her, making her shiver in the warm September air.

Jasmine scanned the crowd lazily, watching the other Hogwarts families arrive and friend re-unite. She knew it would be unlikely to catch sight of Sheraton, as a 7th year Prefect she would have her hands full helping the firsties get their crap together and onto the train. Aemilia should be on the platform already, along with the rest of their year. She was spying on the egregiously loud and horrendously red haired Weasley's entrance, followed by the illustrious Boy-Who-Unfortunately-Lived when a hand wrapped around her waist and a pair of moist lips connected with her neck. It was all Jasmine could do not to scream. Whirling out of the embrace with a look of rage and a few careful words on her lips, she found herself face to face with Adrian Pucey, wearing an amused expression on his face.

"And here I thought you'd be happy to see me, the way things... progressed the last time..." he was cut off by Jasmine's hiss.

"Shut up." She glanced furtively around, praying neither of her parents had seen the exchange. Thankfully, both were oblivious as usual, but Pansy was not. Her younger sister glared at Jasmine knowingly and Jasmine stuck out her tongue in return before turning back to Adrian.

"You bloody idiot, not in front of the adults! What kind of fool are you?" Adrian too looked around, smiling charmingly at both Narcissa Malfoy and Jasmine's mother, Hyacinth Parkinson.

"Your parents aren't even paying us any notice, baby, so don't worry. Why don't we get on the train a little early, see if we can't find ourself a spot for a touch of privacy, our own compartment perhaps..." He leaned in towards her, a knowing smirk on his face which was diminished by her shoving him back.

"You're a prat, Pucey. It's not just my parents that I'm concerned with. We're surrounded by friends and colleagues of my parents and if even one of them saw that and had deicded it's their moral obligation to tell my parents - we'd both be dead. Me because I'll be considered damaged good and you because you'd be lucky to be an eunuch once Blythe and Jamieson were through with you."

On that note, she turned on her heel - furious at the presumption, and set out to find Sheraton and Aemelia.

She finally found both just as the steam whistle blew at 10:58. Unfortunately, they were in the company of Cordelia Whitby, the last seventh year Slytherin girl. But as much as Jasmine despised the girl in private, they had to present a united Slytherin front in public.

"Girls!" she called and the three turned, shrieking upon seeing her. She exchanged air kisses with all three, stepping quickly away from Cordelia. 'Filthy half-blood. How she even got into Slytherin is still beyond me.' To tell the truth, Cordelia wasn't even a half-blood. Her great-great-great-grandmother had been a muggleborn with though, and it was those nitpicky genealogical details that purebloods never forgot. It was enough so that Jasmine saw Cordelia as only slightly above something to be scraped off the bottom of her patent dragonhide pump.

The four girls stepped up onto the train, giggling and laughing as a group. The Slytherin boys had claimed two compartments for the seventh years, which they all piled into.

With one last toot of the whistle, the Hogwarts Express began to move - carrying them all towards their last year.

Sheraton only stepped into the compartment long enough to grab hold of Julian Higg's arm. "C'mon then, we have a Prefects meeting to attend."

Jasmine snorted. "You would've thought Pansy had won the Order of Merlin they way she squealed when she got the Prefects badge. It was really only because she knew Malfoy would be the other Prefect."

Julian rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "We'll keep an eye on her for you, Jas."

"Oh would you?" she batted her eyelashes at him playfully and he grinned back.

Sheraton snorted at her friends before pulling him bodily out of the compartment. They could hear the two bickering all the way down the corridor until they stepped into the next car.

Aemilia giggled and started to unbutton the top few buttons of her silk blouse. "Merlin, but it's hot."

Adrian eyed her growing exposed cleavage with a leverage grin. "Well, something is certainly raising the temperature in here."

She swatted at him, "Oh, hush you - or I'll set Marcus on you."

"Sorry to tell you this, dearest, but your brother's already done an extra year - I think McGonaggal might explode if he tried to do another," Jasmine drawled, running her fingernails up and down the top of Adrian's thigh and effectively recapturing his gaze. It wasn't that she and Aemilia competed for the attentions of men, per say, well, if they did - it was an unofficial competition. And unfair, Jasmine reflected, as she twirled a lock of blond hair around her finger, giving Adrian a small smile.

He leaned in towards her, breathing against her skin. "What say you and I go and look for a little bit of that privacy?"

She giggled as he pulled her out of her seat. Adrian nearly ran smack into Edward Montague at the door to the compartment though, and the two boys, nearly men now, Jasmine realized with surprise, stopped. 

"Pucey. Didn't contract anything serious from one of your whores this summer? Pity."

"Montague - the mediwitches still haven't managed to extract that club from your ass I see. Oh well, keep the hope alive." Adrian went to pat him on the shoulder but Edward smacked his hand away.

"Don't touch me." His gaze traveled from Adrian to Jasmine, who lifted her chin under his scrutiny. "Ah, Parkinson. I had a delightful chat with your father on the platform - nice man. I myself can't fathom where he might've went wrong. But then, maybe it's not actually his fault."

Jasmine smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I assure you, Montague, that I am most definitely a product of my parent's unfortunate marriage contract. Now, if you'll excuse us, Adrian and I have an... appointment." She gave Adrian's shoulder a little push and the two strolled down the corridor away from the compartment.

Edward glared after the two before turning to face the remaining occupants of the Slytherin's space. Aemilia was now applying a filing charm to her nails with her wand and Miles Bletchley was stretched along the opposite bench.

He sank down next to Aemilia, and the girl smiled at him. "Ed," she dropped a quick kiss on his cheek, but didn't turn her eyes from her nails.

"Flint." He poked a foot at Miles. "Bletchley."

"Eh?" Miles opened his eyes to nod towards his fellow Quidditch player. "Montague. How goes, m'lord?"

Bletchley had been calling him 'm'lord' since halfway through sixth year, when it had been clear that the next year Edward would be the ruling seventh year over the Slytherin House. Slytherin worked much like a monarchy - each year there was a king, usually the Quidditch captain or Prefect, and several monarchs in training behind him. As much as Draco Malfoy may be the Crown Prince of Slytherin - this year, Edward was King. He allowed himself a short smirk. He had waited for this year, when he would have the influence and authority he lusted after. He wasn't quite academically minded enough, nor enough of a player by the rules, to earn the Prefect title, but then he had never even wanted it. Julian had been Snape's favourite since their first Potions lesson, the Head of House had taken one look at the small boy with shining eyes in the Potions Lab and had a new apprentice. Adrian Pucey had erroneously thought himself to be the heir to the monarchy last year, but Edward intended to clear that up in short time. He was all but guaranteed the Captaincy - he just needed to shore up his support.

"Hey, Miles."

"Yah?" this time, the dark haired Keeper didn't even bother to open his eyes. 'Lazy bugger', Edward chuckled internally. He oven thought that as great a Keeper as Bletchley was - he'd taken a Quaffle to the head one too many times.

"Who d'you want for the Captaincy?"

Miles shrugged. "Pucey's a decent player but he's a crap strategist. So I figure you."

Edward grinned, "I'm glad to have your support."

"Always, m'lord."

Edward nodded. Friendship and loyalty were transient concepts in the Slytherin House, but he and Miles had been friends since their nannies had set them in the same sandbox at the age of 3. The boy may not the brightest of all, but Edward knew he would always have his support. 

Miles chuckled to himself softly. He had been sitting back and watching for six years - now it was time to take some action. He had been deliberating between throwing his hat in with Adrian or Edward since second year. The two boys were both leaders, but Edward had acquired the strategic skills and thoughtfulness which Adrian had not. Where Adrian was headstrong, Edward was careful and subtle -stronger, sneakier - a consummate Slytherin. Edward appreciated and recognized the value in the support of Miles and his peers - Adrian thought he could go it alone. Adrian had the ambition, but not always the intelligence to go with it - and if Miles had his way, it would be his fatal flaw.

Aemelia was still running her wand over her nails, quiet as was her nature. She had watched and listened to the interchange and was suddenly struck by the confidence that she had never seen in Miles before. She and Miles had been friends for a long time - she was close with all the Quidditch boys. They were all brothers in a fashion to her, after Marcus had led the team for so long. Granted, her feelings towards Adrian were most definitely not sisterly, but she had come to accept the fact that at least for now, Adrian was fully enthralled by Jasmine. 

Aemelia looked out the window as the two boys began to discuss the Quidditch games that they had seen or heard of over the summer. Only this year did she finally feel free from her brother's presence. He had been at Hogwarts so long, even last year when he had graduated he had been prone to drop in unannounced. Father had allowed him to take a gap year before starting work at the family company this June and Aemelia gave a sigh of relief that he finally had something to occupy his time aside from being an overprotective git. Marcus was expected to marry within the next year or two, and hopefully would find no reason to vist Hogwarts at all this term. She would have an opportunity to do what... and whom, she thought with a silent giggle, she wanted. This was looking to be a very promising year.


	2. Chapter 2

The ickle-firsties had been sorted (9 to Slytherin and 8 to Gryffindork, Sheraton couldn't keep the grin off her face) and dinner done, for that she was thankful. Now, she could delegate the dungeon tours to the other Prefects while she and Julian had a 'meeting' with their Head of House. It wouldn't be a very long meeting, she had complied and presented a list to her uncle when she had stayed with him in early August. They had worked out a Slytherin duties list for the Prefects and decided upon the fundamental rules for the year, making adjustments based on the events of the last term. The Tri-Wizard tournament and ensuing... events meant that Slytherins would have to tread a careful line this year - a line that Sheraton would police very closely. Professor Snape would most likely inform Julian of what they had worked out and field any of Julian's concerns or ideas for the year.

As she sipped at her cup of Darjeeling, she gave a soft sigh and rested her chin upon her hand. The tea was soothing her nerves, from her own private bag that the House Elves received from her mother at the beginning of each year - and she was the only one with access to it. Felicity Snape's (nee Avery) family had made it's fortune in it's Indian imports since the 19th century, and her tea parties were renowned through pure blood society, an invitation to which meant you were part of the close knit circle of wives that held so much sway in the wizarding world. All Sheraton wanted to do now was unpack, have a warm bath and go t obed. Not that she would actually get to do that. No, first she would Julian bouncing on her bed, then her 5th and 6th year Prefects would come for their duties schedules and voice their innocuous and generally irrational concerns - Merlin, there was another hour gone. Nor would it surprise her if some firstie had a nightmare and she had to deal with it. Such weakness of character wasn't encouraged in the Slytherin House though, within a few days they would learn not to advertise such baseless fears and emotions. Still there would be one homesick girl in her bed tonight, there always was - Sheraton just prayed it wouldn't be a bed wetter.

A major upside for this year was finally getting her own room. No more dealing with the pecking order of the girls' dorms. She loved her friends, but they were far too obsessed with social standing and up in arms over any perceived slight, be it a slipped word or stepping on someone's brand new nude stilletos. It had gotten old for Sheraton. They were Slytherins, by that virtue alone they should be above such low class bickering, no matter what those Gryffindorks thought. However, the politics of the house meant that not everyone was equal, the girls being no exception to that rule, although they did their best to keep the backstabbing to a minimum.

Not that there wasn't a few people Sheraton wouldn't mind seeing lying at the bottom of a flight of stairs... Her gaze slipped towards Cordelia Whitby, the tolerated member of their clique. The girl, whom Sheraton judged had probably put on a few pounds over the summer, was currently pouring her boyfriend a cup of tea and adding milk and sugar to his taste. 'Pathetic,' was Sheraton's internal comment as her eyes narrowed. Cordelia most definitely did not deserve Nathaniel, or Neil as most people knew him, Baddock. His family was longstanding in the community, a true Slytherin dynasty while Cordelia was barely above the pureblood line. She was nearly middle class even. Sure, Neil may be a second son but it was sad to see a good family be tainted so. It was obvious that now Cordelia had her hooks into Neil, she wasn't about to let go - the gleam in the girl's eye was definitely of the diamond upon an engagement ring. A big one. So big it would probably be vulgar. Sheraton looked forward to snickering at the ill-taste of it all.

"Oi, Sheraton!" Julian called to her from where he stood with the other Prefects. She noticed the Head Boy and Girl (a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, respectively, Sheraton was glad to know that at least she wouldn't have to kowtow to a Gryffindwhore) were martialling the houses out of the Great Hall.

"Right," Sheraton stood and began to snap orders as she strode towards the group. "Malfoy, Parkinson, take the firsties on a dungeons tour, Higgs and I have a meeting with Professor Snape. And remember the new password - belladonna." She turned to the 6th year Prefects, "Make sure the rest of the house gets down without much dawdling and hopefully no hexes thrown. Keep them all away from the Gryffindorks - excuse me, Gryffindors, for Merlin's sake. Then organize everyone into their proper rooms, solve any conflicts that may arise. Don't bother me until all that is sorted out. Alright then - all of you, off." She spun around and headed off towards her uncle's office.

"Snape, you bossy wench, hold up!" Julian grabbed her hand, yanking her physically around.

She glared at him, "Ouch," and rubbed her arm. She didn't take her hand back, but continued to walk, now dragging him behind her.

"Hey," Julian tugged at her again. This time he grabbed her shoulders to hold her still. He was pouting at her, his blue eyes twinkling at her.

"What?" Sheraton touched his cheek, her nail running along his cheekbone gently as they stood just outside the door of the Hall. "What are you pouting about, love?"

"Hello dear, how was your summer? I haven't seen you in three months, there is a possibility that I may have missed you." He pulled her into a tight hug and Sheraton chuckled against his chest.

"I missed you too, Ian, but I haven't had a moment to think about myself yet. We'll talk tonight, all right?"

He sighed, the pout coming back. "Later, it's always later. No time for me, your very best friend in all the world..." He continued to grumble as Sheraton laughingly pulled him down towards the dungeons.

Cordelia lowered her lashes as the two wandered out of sight, her eyes darkening with thought. Sheraton and Julian were now the effective leaders of the Slytherin house, while Edward may be King, the were prime minister and president, with the authority to keep the more impulsive members of the House in line. Yet, watching them right now - they had seemed so un-Slytherin. The guard that both had cultivated, the facade over emotions and intentions, alike to the one most Slytherins had, slipped away when they were together. There was a light in Sheraton's eyes that only lit when she was with Julian, and Julian was happier with her than he was even with his potions. 

Cordelia turned back to her boyfriend, talking at joking with Christopher Warrington while the two boys finished off their plates of trifle. As Neil set down his fork, he easily dropped his hand down onto his lap for her to place her own hand into. She smiled at the sight. Neil Baddock was the greatest thing that had ever happened to her. Actually, he hadn't happened to her per say. She had chosen him midway through third year - and had made herself such a fixture in his life it had been a guarantee last year that he would invite her to the Yule Ball - since then, they had been an entrenched pair within the Slytherin House. He came from a well established and well off family, exactly the kind of legacy she had meant to marry into when she entered the Slytherin House six years ago. Cordelia expected to have a ring on her finger by the end of the year. He was a second son, so her own status, or lack thereof in the eyes of society, wasn't so terrible. As long as she produced a few children and was a perfect hostess, she would be accepted. She would be part of the powerful circle of Slytherins that ruled most of the business and society of England. Where she longed to be all her life. She wouldn't have to work like her mother had, taking children for piano lessons. It was a respectable occupation - but an occupation nonetheless. She would take tea and serve cocktails to her friends. She would rise above her own family. And not look back.

Neil glanced down at her, his blue eyes crinkling. "All right there, Cordy?"

She gave him a sweet smile and nodded. His gaze traveled to her own, untouched, plate of trifle. "Not hungry then?"

Cordelia shook her head. "I had a large brunch before we left, I'm still rather stuffed."

He shrugged. "Right then." She could probably stand to miss a meal or two, he reflected to himself. No wife of his would be anything but perfect, and Cordy did realize that. Which was why she was perfect for him. Perfectly devoted. He stood, pulling her with him. "Coming, Chris?"

Warrington looked up at the couple, from where he had been looking at a sheet of parchment. "In a minute, have to just finish this note and send it off."

"Who're you writing to?" Cordelia asked, twining her arm around Neil's.

Chris gave her a short smile. "My cousin. I promised I'd write her as soon as I got in."

"How close a cousin? Marriage material?" Neil asked, grinning in a slightly lecherous manner, earning him a poke from Cordelia. He only chuckled, pulling her against his side most closely.

Warrington looked back down at the letter. "No," he said softly. "Probably not marriage material."

Neil shrugged. "All right then - see you down there, but it'll be your fault if you get the bed by the drafty window." The two headed off, heads bent close towards each other. They were such a contrast -Neil was tall, lanky and light haired while Cordelia was short with raven dark curls, and definitely on the curvy, nearly chubby side.

Chris looked at the last few words he had written: '...miss you already. But - it's only one more year then. And then we'll be free.'

He snorted to himself. Free. How naive could he be. He'd never be free of this system, this way of life. He jotted down a short farewell and signed it, turning to stand just as he caught sight of pale blond head leaving the Hall, his heart clenching. He lifted his arm and his owl, Samantha, swooped down. He tied the letter to her leg - "You know who to take this to." With a soft hoot, the tawny owl launched herself from his arm and he made his way to the dungeons.

Severus Snape strode down the corridors of Slytherin House grumbling to himself. He had just come from a Heads meeting and McGonnagal was going to drive him absolutely batty this year. The supercilious woman, so convinced of the nobility and rights of the Gryffindors, especially Potter and his irritating sidekicks. The only one there was hope for in that House now was Granger, if she ever learned to shut her mouth when appropriate. 

Snape was already in an unfortunate mood when he opened the door to the 7th year prefect's rooms and found the boy's side empty. He frowned and moved through the shared bathroom, to be greeted with the sight of Julian swinging Sheraton around as she giggled, his hands firmly planted upon the bottom of Snape's darling and favourite and only niece. A girl he had considered a daughter from the moment she had entered his life. He reached for his wand.

"Higgs - kindly remove your hands from my ward's.... ahem, posterior else I will not be responsible my actions and may not be inclined to offer any kind of antidote."

Sheraton grinned broadly and hopped down from Julian's arms. "Uncle Sevvie!!" she squealed and flung her arms around her uncle's mid-section.

Snape growled. The damn girl was only doing it to annoy him, but also knew that he found it extremely difficult to deny her anything when called 'Sevvie', as much as it was an annoyance. "It's nice to see you, Sheraton. I trust the end of your summer was entertaining?" he ground out, not returning her embrace but for a perfunctory pat on the shoulder.

She stepped back to grin at him, tossing her long black locks, so black they were nearly blue, over her shoulder. "Adequately amusing, Uncle. Just the usual round of parties with all the usual people -I have to say I'm grateful for the end of summer because I usually run out of polite topics to discuss with Mother's friends."

"You're braver than I child, I usually don't even try to be polite to your mother's friends." Snape crossed his arms and levelled a glare at Higgs. "Well then, I see you two have already settled yourselves in."

"Yes, sir," Higgs replied cheerfully, stepping up to shake Snape's hand. "Good to see you again Professor - I read your latest article in Ars Chemiclia over the summer, fascinating stuff."

The fact that Higgs was sucking up while sliding an arm around Sheraton's waist did very little to dispell Snape's current frustration with the boy. He was the most talented seventh year potions student, a boy he saw as his apprentice, but so help him, if the boy's hand moved any further south there would be trouble.

"Right then. It is an unfortunate feature of these quarters that the two prefects have a shared bathroom, but I certainly hope I can impress upon you, Mr. Higgs, the discretion and respect I expect from you in regards to my niece?" Snape leveled a glare that shook the knees of most first through fourth years.

"Of course sir, I am a gentleman to the core," Higgs protested.

Sheraton snorted beside him and then gave her uncle a sunny smile. Well, as sunny as a Snape could muster. A mildly bright smile. "You needn't worry about us, Uncle. You wouldn't have picked us if we weren't able to respect eachother's privacy."

Severus looked around, wondering if there were any areas he could have an extra wall or two erected in the next few hours. He sighed, giving Higgs one more glare. "I'll just leave this with a warning, Mr. Higgs - one I hope I needn't vocalize."

Higgs gulped slightly. "Of course sir. I understand perfectly." He finally removed his hand from Sheraton, to clasp behind his back.

Severus smiled chillingly. "Right then - shall we move onto business?"

They would have moved on to the required duties for this year if shouting hadn't echoed from down the hall. Snape turned and glared, then looking back to Sheraton and Julian who suddenly looked sheepish. 

"That wouldn't be an argument I hear coming from our new seventh year boy's dorm?" he asked quietly.

"It, uh - may very well be, sir," Julian started as Snape swung around and stalked down the corridor, Sheraton running after him.

"Uncle I really tried to settle things between them, but they're both too pigheaded to listen to reason!" she lengthened her strides to catch up with his.

"Oh, they'll listen, Sheraton," he hissed.

He pushed the door to the dorms open with a BANG! and there was sudden quiet.

All the occupants of the room stopped and turned to stare, Pucey dropping his arm - not the only one in the room red in the face.

Snape moved foward slowly, quietly. His gaze never left Adrian and Edward as they stood next to one another - Warrington holding Adrian's other arm and Bletchley murmuring softly into Edward's ear. Baddock leaned against the wall next to his bed, prepared to watch a show.

"Is this the behaviour I can expect from my senior Slytherins this year?" Snape asked softly. "You'd think you were first year - Gryffindors even, for all the uncouth noise you've been making. What is the meaning of this?"

"Sir - " Edward began but was cut off by Pucey.

"He claimed the Captain's bed sir! He has no right to do so until an official vote is made as to whose to take over!" Pucey's eyes flashed as he fisted his hands.

Snape snorted. "Vote? Where did you get the erroneous idea you lived in a democratic House, boy?"

Pucey frowned, "But sir - the Captain still hasn't been decided and I'm just as likely a candidate as Montague."

"Are you? Displays like this tell me otherwise. I decide who'll be Quidditch Captain, Pucey - and I've already made my decision. Mr. Montague received a letter to it within his Hogwarts envelope. He has every right to take that bed." Snape gave the younger man a measured glance, then turned on his heel and stalked out, presumbably to check upon the other rooms.

If possible, Pucey turned an even deeper shade of red. He shook off Warrington's arm to move towards the farthest bed. The Quidditch Captain was traditionally given their own semi-private space, with a wall between it and the rest of the beds. Sheraton glared at Montague as he grinned cheekily and tossed his bag onto the bed, for the house elf to unpack.

"You could've used a tad more discretion there, Ed, " she told him, sighing.

"Sublte? Me? I don't know who you're referring to, Sheraton," he replied, raising an eyebrow at her. Then he suddenly realized who he was speaking to - and where. "Wait a minute! What are you doing in here? Girls aren't allowed in the boys dorms!"

She smirked, a near-perfect imitation of her uncle. "Seventh year prefects are allowed in any dorm they please to enter, so you boys had better be on your toes this year -you never know when I may stop in."

Warrington began buttoning up his Oxford, which had been hanging loose from his trousers. "But you'd give us a bit of warning, right Sher?"

She rolled her eyes. "That wouldn't be very Slytherin of me - now would it."

Edward was still digesting this concept. "You mean then - that Julian could go into the girls' dorms! The lucky sod!"

Sheraton favoured him with a stinging look, "Not if he knows what's good for him he won't."

Miles rolled his eyes at her, "And of course you two aren't together."

"Why does everyone think just because I can boss him around we're shagging? Merlin, anyways - I'll leave you boys in peace, visit around. I'll see you in the morning." Sheraton sauntered out to pause at the door, turning slightly with a grin on her face. "By the way, Baddock - those toad boxers are just adorable." She laughed as he choked, shoving them into the armoire he stood in front of. The other boys snickered, but Adrian slammed the door to his armoire closed and stormed out.

By the time Sheraton made it to the other seventh year dorm, Jasmine was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Jas?" she asked, reclining upon Aemelia's bed.

"Pucey stood at the door and bellowed for her a few minutes ago, sounded upset." Aemelia informed her, tossing a few lacy undergarments into the top drawer. "D'you know what about?"

"Uncle just informed him, and everyone else, that Edward was Quidditch Captain this year," Sheraton drawled. "He did not take it well."

Aemelia snorted. "No shit. Oh well, let's just hope we can keep those two from coming to blows on the pitch this year." She flopped down next to her friend, staring at the silk canopy above. "I wonder where Adrian took Jas." 

Sheraton read her far too well and ensuring that Cordelia was sufficiently occupied organizing her shoes by colour, she rolled over to face Aemelia. "Don't be like that, 'Lia. There's no point. They'll never last, Mrs. Parkinson will throw a fit at first hint and betroth Jas off to the next suitable boy that comes along, then you can make your move. You just have to be patient." She traced the pattern upon the duvet. 'We all do...'

Cast of Characters (Just to help you keep people straight):

Edward Montague; first son of his family, an Import/Export empire, expected to take up the business upon graduation. Quidditch Captain: Chaser.

Jasmine Parkinson; first daughter, third child of the family - Pansy's elder sister, part of a Retail empire, expected to marry well upon graduating. Arithmantic genius, though very few people know about it.

Adrian Pucey; first son, minor gentry stock, general wealthy ne'er do well. Quidditch Player: Chaser.

Aemelia Flint; youngest daughter and child - Marcus' younger sister. Smarter than you would think. Wants to escape her family's reputation.

Sheraton Snape; only niece of Severus Snape and his ward. 7Th Year Slytherin Prefect. Very much aware of the realities of the coming war.

Julian Higgs; second son of a landed family, Potions genius and Snape's apprentice. 7th Year Slytherin Prefect.

Nathaniel (Neil) Baddock; third son of a banking family with large shares in Gringotts. Still sitting upon the fence, memory like an elephant.

Cordelia Whitby; only daughter of a slightly above middle class family, looking to marry up. Horror upon horrors, has a Muggle born witch as a great-great-great-grandmother.

Miles Bletchley; second son of a long standing gentry family. Quidditch Player: Keeper. Still waters run deep.

Christopher Warrington; third son of a merchant empire family. Quidditch Player: Chaser. The gentle and thoughtful Slytherin.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Chris - got your letter last week, eternally sweet. Miss you too but have been terribly busy getting into it, NEWTS already seem daunting to me.

Got a little tipsy with some strawberry wine and the girls last night. Learned more things about Angelina and Katie than I care to know - I now know enough about Ang and Fred's *ahem* habits, that would turn your hair grey. But I'll preserve your modesty and not pass it on - I'm still trying to Obliviate myself. Promise me we'll never advertise quite like that, all right? Good luck (well, not TOO much luck) in training. Please try to stay away from rogue Bludgers, preserve your parts for my sake at least.

Yours, Alicia.

He had received the letter last night and it now lay in the hidden drawer of his bedside table. Chris rolled over in bed, the morning light filtering through the window next to his bed. He was having a bit of a lie in before taking his shower, and using the time to think.

He had known Alicia Spinnet for, well - as long as he could remember. Their families both had summering houses in Devon and he had played with the young blonde girl on the beach since they both could toddle, under the careful watch of their nannies to ensure they stayed away from the cliffs. When they had gone to Hogwarts it was really so surprise where they were sorted - both families were legacies in their respective Houses. So the two, so close for their childhood, had begun writing to one another. Bad and gloomy days were somehow made sunny with a short note from Alicia. At first it had only been friendship, a friendly rivalry when they first played Quidditch against one another in their 2nd year. He still couldn't define in his mind when their relationship had turned from one of innocence to one of innuendo.

It may have been the summer of fourth year - his family had been delayed leaving the city for a week or two and when he had arrived and run down to the beach in search of her, he had been very suprised to see the way she was now filling out her bikini suit. But no matter what, this summer had been a clear turning point in their, well - whatever it was. They had kissed, more than once, and he had managed to feel how well she had filled out, but both knew as long as they were at Hogwarts, it would be too difficult to try and sustain a romantic relationship. So he was waiting. Waiting for each letter he got, now much more affectionate and waiting for the end of his year. When he could start the rest of his life - hopefully with her.

Chris shook himself out of his contemplative mood, no use getting maudlin. He swung his feet over the edge of his bed and tugging at his boxers to sit properly on his hips made his way to the bathroom to tend to his natural instincts. He nodded to Neil on the way, who was sitting at his desk, feet propped up at the edge as he flipped through the morning Prophet.

Neil scanned the headlines, then financial pages. There was an article about Hogwarts and the appointment of Umbridge as High Inquisitor but as long as she didn't seriously interfere with the Slytherin House he would pay the hag no mind. He checked the price of the Galleon and read on to the lastest appointments and financial movements. He would never admit, but he sneeked a peak at the gossip section, to see who had been at the latest parties. He was giving the Page 5 Witch an appreciative eye when there was a knock at the door to the dorm. Adrian may have been closer, but the drapes to his bed were fully closed so Neil sighed and rose to answer the knock.

He looked forward and then down, "Hello Malfoy."

Neil leaned casually against the doorframe, giving slight nods to the two overgrown puppies flanking Draco. He raised an eyebrow - "What do you want?"

Draco gulped, but stood straight and made eye contact with Neil "We'd like to speak to the Captain, sir. We want to know when practise will be today."

Neil frowned, running a hand through his hair. "Fine then, come in." He led the three into the little anteroom into the dorm and pointed to the chairs there. "Wait here." He sauntered into the dorm proper and turned the corner, out of sight of the the younger boys.

So they sat. Crabbe fidgeted in his chair, kicking the leg with his heel until Draco hissed at him to desist. They sat for another fifteen minutes.

Neil and Chris chuckled to themselves as they shaved at the sinks, Edward in the shower, humming the latest Weird Sisters hit under his breath as he rinsed his hair.

Ten minutes later, Sheraton sauntered into the anteroom, dressed in a loose pair of silky green pyjama pants with a black tank top, a black silk robe draped casually over her shoulders, her hair immaculate even though it was barely past 10 in the morning.

Draco couldn't help but stare as he noticed how the pants seemed to barely sit above her hips, grazing the curve of her bottom and licked his lips as she came to a stop in front of them.

"What're you three doing sitting here?" she asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

On either side, Crabbe and Goyle stared as if entranced. To Draco, the difference between fifth and seventh year girls never seemed like such a vast difference until now, looking at the girl - no, woman in front of him.

He swallowed, trying to remain focussed on her eyes as he spoke. "We're waiting to talk to the Quidditch Captain, ma'am." He made sure to be respectful considering both her status within the house and her close relationship with the hardest teacher in the school.

She made an annoyed noise, "Don't call me ma'am, Malfoy." Her eyes narrowed as she looked at his companions. "Crabbe! Goyle! My eyes are clearly a good foot above your gaze!" Draco elbowed them hastily and she laid a smirk on both. "Don't make me take points from my own house, children."

Draco bristled at being addressed so but stayed silent as she continued into the dorms, running into Edward in the doorway. He smiled at her, lazily finishing tying his own pants closed. "What brings you here this morning, my dear?" he drawled.

"Making sure all you louts are out of bed on time of course," she answered. "Make sure to be at brunch, will you - we have something to discuss with the House afterwards." She reached out a slim hand to run through his still slightly dripping hair and ruffled it with a grin.

He smiled back before turning to see the three fifth years. "What do you want?" he asked crossly.

"We're, um, waiting to see you Captain," Draco answered promptly. "We'd like to know when practise will be."

"At three today - I was going to tell you at brunch. Don't come and bother me for things like that. If you want to talk to me, you'll have to make an appointment at the next meal."

"Appointment?" Sheraton asked with a snicker. "Are you a dentist now?" she asked from where she had flopped down on Mile's bed, using his legs as a prop for her elbow.

"Arg, Sheraton - geroff!" He sat up and pushed at her, she just inclined her head to smile at him and he, grumbling, lay back down, pulling a pillow over his head.

"No, I'm a busy man!" Edward protested, his fists on his hips. Annoyed at Sheraton's bossyness he turned back to Draco and company. "And what are you still doing here! Get out!" the three hastily scrambled out, not closing the door behind him.

Warrington wandered out of the bathroom then clutched his towel to him upon catching sight of Sheraton. "Sher! Merlin - can't you give a man a bit of warning?!"

Sheraton rolled her eyes, "Since when did you all appoint yourselves men?! I'll be the judge of that I think. Oh - stop blushing Chris, I'm not here to attack your precious modesty and virtue. Step lightly then boys," she rose from Miles bed, pulling the pillow from his grasp and dropping a kiss to his cheek. She sauntered over to the still closed curtains of Adrian's bed and pulled them swiftly apart. "Rise and shine, Pucey!" she sang cheekily, then moved to the door. "Brunch is in an hour - be there promptly!" She exited, closing the door behind her.

Neil snickered from the bathroom door, brushing his teeth. "That girl is a force of nature for sure."

"I still don't see why she couldn't have sent Ian to get us up," Chris grumbled as he pulled on a pair of boxers and pants. He levelled a look at Edward and Miles, "Though you two didn't seem to mind it."

Both boys grinned lecherously, then caught sight of each other's expression.

"Oi!" Miles shot up in bed to stare at his best friend. "You slept with Sheraton?!"

A look of horror came over Edward's face. "What's it to you?" He demanded, attempting to recover his dignity after the last expresion which had crossed his face.

Miles was out of his bed and across the room, completely oblivious of the room's other three occupants watching with a mixture of horror and facination at the thought of Sheraton sleeping with anyone. "Because ... well ... I ..." Suddenly Miles seemed to be at a loss for words.

"It was YOU!?" Edward's eyes were the size of dinner plates. 

Chris chose this moment to interject, his face a tribute to astonishment. "Wait a second, wait a second, you mean to say you took Sheraton's -" 

"Don't! Just don't!" He was cut off by Ed's hand interjecting forcefully. 

"Will you all just SHUT UP!" Pucey bolted upright, his glare diminshed by his bleary eyes and sleep tousled state. "What does it matter who took Sheraton's-" 

"DON'T!" The three other Quidditch players roared at him. 

Neil chuckled to himself, as he turned the page of his paper.

Unaware that her virginity - or lack thereof, was the subject of such a heated debate, Sheraton gave a perfunctory rap to the door of the girls' dorm before stepping in. At least everyone here was already up - oh, nope, Sheraton amended her original thought when she peered through to Jasmine's bed and saw the still figure within. She snorted in a lady like fashion, moving past Cordelia who was alphabetizing her lipsticks and nodding to Aemelia, who was ensconced in an arm chair with a copy of Witch Weekly and a cup of tea, Earl Gray to Sheraton's trained nose. She meandered up next to Jasmine's bed and drew the curtain aside, leaning down to comment into Jas's ear: "Wow, you even sleep with your legs open."

"Screw you, Snape," Jasmine grumbled and rolled over.

"We've had this conversation Jas and I'm still really not that interested." Sheraton sat upon the edge of the bed and threw the covers off her friend.

Jasmine lifted her head just enough to glare at her so called best friend. "Leave me be, for Merlin's sake. I had a long and trying night."

"If by trying you mean shagging Pucey's brains out - or what brains he may have had, the Wizengamot's still out on that one, my sympathy is non-existent. You need to be at brunch in 45 minutes flat, so move your lazy ass."

Jasmine sat up slowly, rubbing at her eyes. "You know, you weren't so much of a bitch before you were a Prefect."

"Yes I was, I just didn't have the authority to exert like I do now. Move it." Sheraton leaned over to tussle Jasmine's golden hair, usually so perfectly arranged and now rather resembling a haystack, and hopped off the bed. Aemelia was pulling on a over robe when Sheraton stopped by her section of the room, leaning against the armoire. She eyed the bright purple and black zebra knit dress with a curious eye. "Picked that up over the summer did you?" she asked skeptically.

"Mm-hmm," Aemelia replied, stepping into black pumps. "I figure I may as well make an impression our first brunch, y'know?"  
"Oh you will dear," Sheraton said with a slight roll to her eye and lightly dodged the thrown hair brush. "I had best be changed as well, we'll meet in the Common Room at five to." With a nod to Cordelia, who was fussing with her hair, she strolled down the corridor to her own suite. Julian's door was ajar, and closer, so she veered in.

And stopped. Julian was standing at the large table he'd had brought in, covered in potions ingredients and a bubbling cauldron or two. He moved around slowly, wearing only a pair of loose striped pyjama pants - in which she couldn't help but admire the posterior view.

Julian had arrived for the sixth year of study transformed. The gawky, geeky boy who had left in June was replaced by a tall and lanky Roman god. His blue, bedroom eyes and thoughtful way about him had set many a heart, Slytherin or no, a flutter. Even Sheraton had not been immune. Her playful best friend was a sex god - she would've had to be stark blind not to notice. Ironically, the shirt to the pants he was wearing right now, had been in her posession since the previous June. She had 'borrowed' it as a reminder for the summer, and it had retained his smell all the way up through late August. He turned then and noticed her, giving her a bright smile that twisted at her stomach.

"Morning, love," he greeted her quietly, pouring one vial into another - the colour becoming a bright green, then becoming translucent.

"Morning," she stepped up beside him and kissed his shoulder - he had an easy 10 inches on her now. "Do I even want to know what you're up to?"

"Don't worry, it's not terribly illegal - well, it actually is but who's going to tell on me? It's just for the Quidditch parties, a bit of my own home brew."

She gave him a wide eyed look, "Your ancestors must be spinning in their graves to know such a scion of theirs is bootlegging."

He shrugged, "Cheaper than having it shipped. How long till breakfast?"

She peeked at her watch and sighed - "Half an hour now, I'd best put myself to rights."

"What's to fix?" he asked easily and chuckled at the light smack she delivered to his arm.

"If you're not careful, such flattery will get you everywhere, Higgs," she called over her shoulder as she moved to her rooms through the bathroom.

He grinned to himself. "I'll have to be extra reckless then."


	4. Chapter 4

So far the team wasn't looking to be half-bad Edward mused from his vantage point a hundred feet or so above them. Warrington and Pucey were carrying on a conversation consisting of Warrington recounting the tale of a particulairly enibreiated night, which turned into morning, from this past summer. Edward found it amusing that all the while they were racing up and down the pitch, passing a quaffle between them and attempting to get the ball past their keeper. His new Beaters, Crabbe and Goyle, were taking aim at eachother with the bluddgers - and not very well at that. Edward cursed under his breath at them; there would be a number of drills to run with those two before they were ready for the first game in October. Speaking of drills, he flung another of the wingless snitches at the ground, sending his illustrious Seeker hurtling after it. He smiled as the slim, younger boy caught it barely fifty-feet above the dirt. 

"Are you trying to bloody kill me Montague?" His normally pale face was flushed, whether from exertion or rage Montague had yet to determine.

"More of a perk, your death would be. See I don't fancy your father coming after me." Both boys exchanged sardonic looks, before Edward threw another Snitch, this time grazing Malfoy's right ear. He was happy to note the Slytherin Seeker was proving worthy by catching the little golden ball with ease. 

"OI!" Edwards voice rang across the pitch, and the other players stopped instantly. "We're going to move to the game situation now; take your formations." 

The team moved to comply, and Edward activated a Snitch for Malfoy to follow, before moving down to join Warrington and Pucey. It never ceased to amaze him that no matter their status off the pitch, it never affected their game. When they were getting along well they were almost unstoppable, a force of nature that not even Bletchly could deny. On their good days, no matter the current debate between them - be it over girls or Galleons, the three could weave down the field in complicated manouevers and score again and again. 

As he slid into position opposite Pucey he couldn't miss the dark look directed his way by Adrian. Edward rolled his eyes internally - he had a feeling Pucey would be insufferable for at least several more weeks as the other licked his wounds over not getting the Captain post. He simply had no head for strategy and refused to admit, much like he refused to admit his other faults. Edward frowned as Pucey's gaze slid away and onto their lip of their changing rooms on the opposite side of the field. He actually rolled his eyes when he saw the cause of the distraction. It was rather hard to miss - he could use Jas's dress as a landing beacon for flyers at night. In a fog. In London. When it was raining. Blind flyers. He could have gone on but Pucey was no longer throwing the quaffle at him, but at Malfoy.

The boy managed to stay on his broom, but it was a precarious moment or two. Edward's heart constricted. The little ferret was annoying, he'd be among the first to admit that, but the thought of trying to explain to Lucius Malfoy how he had allowed his only child and heir to end as a puddle upon the pitch grass was more than a slightly daunting idea. 

"What was that for?!" Draco yelped as he clutched the handle of his broom, swooping towards the three older boys.

"You let your eyes keep on straying like that, boy - and you'll get more than a warning from me," Adrian hissed at him.

Malfoy's guilty glance towards the pink figure that was Jasmine ended Edward's confusion. The boy had probably been ogling the seventh year girl and Adrian had reacted predictably possesively.

"Word to the wise, child - when a man is rutting you stay away from his doe," Warrington called to Draco lazily.

The younger boy's expression darkened at being addressed so but took the wise path and kept his mouth shut. Though he wasn't quite wise enough to keep the small, yet lecherous, smirk off his face. Jasmine Parkinson was among the finest pieces of Slytherin ass he'd ever seen, a piece of which he meant to have.

"Ooh, don't look now but I think someone has a secret admirer!" Aemelia chortled, pointing up at the huddled players above.

Jasmine looked up quickly, smiling broadly, but her smile died when she saw who was subjecting her to such scrutiny. She shuddered dramatically, "Like I'd allow some fifth year ferret pervert to even touch me. He's all yours, sister dear." She crossed her arms, the bright pink fabric stretching tightly across her chest. Had she looked above, she would have seen Malfoy wobble once again on his broom, unable to tear his eyes away from the dress' accentuating nature of Jasmine's natural assets.

"Thanks ever so much, Jas - but I do not think of it as your leavings," Pansy drawled, shielding her eyes with a hand to peer up as the players broke from their huddle to resume flying. Her blonde curls bounced as she hopped up and down, waving at Malfoy.

"Must you be so obvious, Pans?" her older sister chastised.

Pansy returned a glare with one of her own, "You're not one to preach subtlety in that particular dress, Jasmine. I still can't believe Mother bought it for you."

"She didn't - Daddy did," Jasmine replied smugly.

"If Daddy had ever even seen that dress he would have it burned, you just signed his name on the receipt didn't you?" Pansy's eyes narrowed at her sibling. "He will notice someday, you know."

Jasmine shrugged. "He hasn't yet - and I'll have a husband to charge purchases to soon enough." She strolled in towards the coolness offered by the awning. 

Pansy followed as Aemelia watched the interchange with great interest. "Oh really? And who would want to marry you?"

Jasmine turned to favour her youngest sibling with a smirk, "Plenty of men. And just as many boys. Don't frown so dear, you might get wrinkles and you have enough working against you as it is."

Pansy snarled, "Like you'd even have a say in the matter. At least Mother and Father approve of my choice."

"What? The ferret? As I said dear, you're welcome to him." Jasmine sat upon one of the benches, Millicent and Blaise a few feet down from her. She glanced to the side and grimaced slightly. "Millicent, for the love of Merlin, cross your legs when you're wearing a skirt or do you really want to give the bleachers a show?"  
Millicent frowned, tugging at her skirt. "I still don't see why I wasn't allowed a try out - I'm just as good as Crabbe or Goyle."

"Proper ladies don't play Quidditch, Millie, " Aemelia drawled. "Do you want to end up looking like one of those awful Gryffindork chasers? Between Spinnet, Bell and Johnson - the only thing they ever have between their legs is their own broom."

Blaise looked slightly puzzled, "But I thought Bell and Johnson were dating the Weasel twins?"  
Aemelia smiled serenely, "As I said, the only thing they ever have between their legs of any significance - is their brooms." The assembled witches cackled.

Miles ground his teeth at the echoing laughter from below. Why did girls have to be such hens about gossip? And why did they have to distract the Chasers so - Pucey couldn't seem to decide to focus his gaze on Jasmine's chest or Aemelia's ass in that second skin of a dress each time he flew by. Warrington and Montague weren't much better. Not that Miles himself didn't appreciate the view, he had simply long categorized such kinds of entanglements here at Hogwarts as dangerous for all they exposed. He was much happier to sit back and watch the others' expose their inner psyches in the most subtle of ways.

Except for Sheraton. He hadn't enjoyed at being surprised so this morning - she must have been very discreet indeed for him to miss her liaisons with Montague. Though the look on Chris's face had been priceless. He had insisted as they made their way to brunch that Julian must never find out about Sheraton's lack of innocence. While Miles did see the obvious bourgeoning attraction between Julian and Sher, he saw to reason to hide such a simple fact. Of course, Warrington had always preferred to see women as purer creatures than they actually were - how he was still friends with Jas was still beyond Miles. 

Jas was a paradox in so many ways. She embraced the traditional manners and ways of the older society, yet had no qualms at throwing herself into the path of every unsuitable male she seemed to meet. Take Pucey for example - while he was from a respectable family, his reputation was already too sullied for Jas's parents to even entertain the notion of an alliance. Jas refused to face that fact - though she would have to at some point.

As Adrian streaked towards him, quaffle under his arm, Miles shifted his weight forwards onto the broom, narrowing his eyes. Adrian moved forwards, then flung himself to the right. Miles let himself drift to the left as his team mate barreled towards him, realization in his eyes that Miles had anticipated. As Adrian flung the quaffle towards the center ring and Miles flew up quickly to grab it a good meter from the rim, he grinned to himself. Seeing that look of realization that Miles had outplayed the game always brought a great deal of satisfaction. 


	5. Chapter 5

Adrian barely managed to suppress his smirk as he entered the Charms classroom on Monday. The exchange occurring between the three and a half foot Professor Flitwick and Adrian's nearly six foot girlfriend was nearly too much.

HIs smile faded as bit when he realized that Flitwick could see clear up Jas's skirt, but then he couldn't really blame the guy. He himself found it difficult to tear his eyes away from her, and he got laid so much more than the tiny teacher. And she really was a testament to feminine sexuality. Flitwick grumbled to himself and waved his wand up and around, "Wingardium Metiri!" he squeaked, a flush across his cheeks, and a measuring tape sprung out of his wand and laid itself along Jasmine's leg. Flitwick peered at it and shook his head, looking triumphant again, "Five inches, Ms. Parkinson. Definitely not regulation."

Jasmine rolled her eyes but relented, tugging the hem of her uniform black skirt downwards, to the minimum three inches above the knee. Or thereabouts. She graced Flitwick with a diabetic smile and Adrian struggled not to snort that the picture she made. "I'm afraid it doesn't get any longer, Professor. The house elves much have given me one of Pansy's skirts by mistake."

Adrian grinned as she flounced over to sit between he and Aemelia. 

"You're incorrigible, Jazzy," he murmured into her ear, twining a golden curl around his finger. She rolled her eyes and swatted at him leaning forward.

In the row in front of them, Sheraton turned to look over her shoulder, grinning at her friend. "Wow Jas, you've managed to make the extra inch Julian forced on me look positively prudish," she teased both Jasmine and Julian.

Adrian noticed that Julian's ears were turning red while Jasmine remained unaffected, though she did stick out her tongue at the other girl. Merlin. How could such a minx in bed, so expressive, so warm, turn into an Ice Queen in most situations. There was still humour about her but it was very clearly tightly controlled, along with everything else in her life. That was his favourite part about shagging the girl, watching the cold, hard arrogance melt away.

Adrian grinned, thinking of vixens. He could imagine the colour that Julian's ears would turn if he ever heard about Sheraton's experiences with both Edward and Miles. In front of him, Julian laid a hand on Sheraton's ear, she leaned into him to listen to his whisper that Adrian didn't quite catch. Knowing those two, it would probably be on topic and academic, amazingly enough. Adrian's favourite pasttime in Charms was daydreaming - when he was younger he had envisioned playing on the English National team and scoring goal after goal. Now, his fantasies were much more realistic, usually featuring the girl sitting next to him. Or girls. He and Baddock had a goal for the year to get two of the girls drunk enough to snog one another. Now that would be a sight that Adrian would smile about.

Aemelia regarded Adrian's dreamy expression with a great deal of suspicion. It never boded well when Pucey seemed.... so happy. Quite frightening actually and she unconciously shifted in her chair. Aemelia sighed softly, leaning down on the desk and accidentally knocking elbows with Edward, waking him from a slight doze.

"What, 'Lia?" he grumbled, running a hand through his close cropped hair.

"Nothing, sorry," she responded softly - doodling across the parchment. Unconciously, she drew a few hearts in the corner and Edward looked down on her with some sympathy.

She bristled at the look, she didn't want to be pitied. "What now?"

"He's no good for you, you know," Edward murmured, nodding significantly towards Pucey.

Aemelia shook her head. "He's not even mine," she whispered back.

"But you want him to be. Merlin - what you girls see in him I'll never know."

She would have been worried about Pucey overhearing their conversation but he was leaning towards Jasmine, listening as she spoke intently into his ear. "I wouldn't ask you to understand."

"Then explain it to me," he crossed his arms across his chest.

Aemelia gave him a long look, "And why should I exactly?"

"Why is the entire world suspicious when I try to do right by one of my friends?" he asked the ceiling.

She grinned slightly, ducking her head. "Past experience. But seriously Edward, why do you want to know? Some sudden concern for my mental well-being?"  
"No... I've given up all hope for that. I just don't want to see you unhappy in ten years, saddled to a man who doesn't deserve you." 

"That infers I'm happy now." She sat back in her chair.

"Are any of us? It's just..." He leaned in towards her to make eye contact. "You're so much better than him."

Aemelia returned his look plainly. "Am I? I'm a Flint, younger sister of Marcus, well regarded as the most impetuous idiot out there. I love my brother, and my family, but it's not exactly easy to be me."

"But it would be easy to be a....Pucey?" the look of horror was clear on his face.

Adrian turned at the sound of his voice, "What's that Montague?"  
"Mind your own bloody business, Pucey," Edward snapped back and Adrian, rolling his eyes, turned back around. At the front of the class, Flitwick prattled on - completely unaware that next to no one in the class was paying attention. 

"You see what I mean?" Edward drawled and Aemelia rolled her eyes.

"You're baiting him."

"Damn right I am. He's a prat."

"He's better than Marcus. Marcus would've just hit you." she responded, nudging him with her foot.

"No he wouldn't - Marcus loves me."

"Not that much," Aemelia muttered under her breath.

Edward sighed and turned to her again. "Seriously, 'Lia - I'm just trying to look out for you."

"I just got rid of one big brother thank you very much. I don't need another. Or did he appoint you to keep an eye on me?" Aemelia asked jokingly. At Edward's guilty silence she stifled a shriek. "The bastard! I'll kill him! I'm seventeen bloody years old! I don't need a fucking babysitter anymore!" she pounded her palm flat on the desk, then stopped when she realized her outburst had drawn the attention of the entire class. She shut her mouth primly.

"Are you quite well, Ms. Flint?" Flitwick inquired tremulously.

"I feel somewhat unwell sir. May I be excused to visit the infirmary? Perhaps Mr. Montague could escort me, in case I faint." 'Only it'll be Edward requiring the medical attention when I'm through with him...' Aemelia reflected as Flitwick consented and she slipped her parchment and quill into her shoulder bag as Edward helped to her feet, a hand under her elbow. They moved slowly out of the class, Edward giving her both concerned and suspicious glances. They turned the corner down the corridor when she spun on him, smacking him in the chest.

"What the HELL Edward! You're supposed to be my ally, not conspire with Marcus to ruin my life!!" Her eyes were dark with emotion as she stared at him.

"'Lia, he asked me to just watch out for you. He doesn't know anything else. I swear on my honour as a Slytherin."

"Oh that's comforting." Aemelia started to pace in front of Edward. "I don't need my brother hovering, nor do I need you trying to be 'helpful'. I need to be allowed to live my life - it's the only way I'll ever escape."

Edward looked at her steadily. "You're so much smarter than this 'Lia. You don't need to sell yourself short just to grab a hold of a name."

"Yes I do, Edward. Believe me - I've thought about it. And I'm not selling myself short. I don't - love - him, but I could be with him. Both of us know he'd never be allowed to marry Jasmine, her parents probably have someone picked out for her. So he'll have to look around - and I plan to be there."

"He's still a prat."

"And I'm still a daughter of a has-been family. Neither of us are perfect - but we can be something together."

"You see? You've thought about this." Edward stepped towards her and captured her hands in his. "You're so much smarter than him. Don't allow yourself to get caught up in his downfall."

Aemelia shook her head. "I won't let him fall. And neither will you."

Edward stepped back. "What are you asking of me exactly?"

"I'm not asking anything - I already know you'll do it. He's... loyal to the cause, but may screw up sometimes. You can help me make sure it's not such a spectacular mistake. You and Miles. You're like brothers to me - you'd protect me like a sister."

"I thought you just told me to not think of you that way."

"I never said I was consistent. But I'm serious. You'll be there for me. I'm not stupid - I've heard about what's been going on. My brother's not particularly discreet. And it'll be your turn next summer. I'll never take the Mark, but I can help you in many ways. And you'll help me."

Edward couldn't do anything but agree as he looked at the girl who had suddenly become a woman in front of his very eyes. "All right then."

Her smile was bright as she reached out, and very much unlike herself, kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she breathed.

He would have hugged her if they hadn't heard a sudden noise down the corridor. Umbridge was speaking loudly to Filch and the two Slytherins simultaneously sprinted for the stairs and ran down towards the dungeons.

It was after dinner when Chris reached the Owlery - there had been practise once classes finished for the day and his legs had ached as he walked up the turning staircase. A plain vellum envelope was clutched in his hand, the product of the time in Charms had offered. He had finished it just as Umbridge had stalked into the class and proceeded to watch the rest of the lecture, furiously scribbling the entire time. They had never actually listened to a lecture before and Chris had been surprised at the sense Flitwick had made in a few instances. Perhaps he had written the small professor off to quickly. The envelope was simply addressed Alicia, with a flourish above the i as he tied the letter to his owl's leg. As it flew off, Chris turned to make his way back to the dungeons again - the falling dusk mirroring his mood. He had seen her at lunch today, laughing with her friends and had wanted to be sitting with her. Not at the Gryffindork table - he'd slit his wrists before sitting there, but with her. Chris smiled grimly at his own longing thought - he was getting emotional and weak in his grand old age of 17 years. 

When he reached the common rooms, he was surprised to see the only seventh year sitting there was Cordelia.

"Cordy," he greeted, flopping onto the couch next to her. 

She looked up and gave him a half smile as she continued reading the Divination textbook.

"Where's your boy?" he asked, unbuttoning his robes and peeling them off his shoulders.

She shrugged, "He's in Sheraton and Julian's rooms - I'm not sure about what. Aemelia and Jasmine wanted to talk - so it was suggested to me I find somewhere else study." she wasn't able to keep the note of bitterness out of her voice.

Chris's eyes narrowed. Cordelia was never one of his favourite people, but she was obviously slipping by telling him such a thing. He stood - "I'm meant for the showers, I'll see you later."

Cordelia expelled a long breath as he stalked away. Warrington hadn't approved of her since fifth year - he saw her as a social climbing slut - a liability to the House as a whole. Not cunning enough, nor smart enough - but none of them had any inkling of the ambition coursing through her body. So what if she had been unladylike pursuing Neil - but she was going to make him go places. She was going to be married to him, and he would be an important man. Her hand fisted when she thought of what she could do - one day, Sheraton would have to be polite to her, more than the veneer of nicety she always wore with Cordelia. Cordelia would have friends, people she could speak with, like Aemelia, Jasmine and Sheraton were friends. They'd be friends with her. They'd want to be friends with her.

Miles wandered into the room, books from the library tucked under his arm. "Cordy," he greeted her, plunking them down on the coffee table before her.

She raised her eyes to smile at him softly. "Miles. What were you up to?"

"Research."

She raised an eyebrow, "On what? We don't have any papers assigned yet."

"Private research, Whitby," he gave her a lopsided grin. 

"I'd be intrigued if I didn't know it was you reading 'The Prince' for what - the millionth time?"

"Like it's not under your mattress at home," he countered.

"Would I ever pretend it wasn't? It's taught me too much, though some days the lessons are harder to remember than others." She could keep the quaver out of her voice.

He sat forward in his seat. "Don't, girl. You've come so far - you can keep going for another year. Don't let it all get to you."

She raised her eyes to his and was surprised to see the support there. "But they're your friends."

"That may be true but you still impress me, Whitby. Not a lot of girls could do what you've done, and not buckled under the pressure and reputation. Jasmine and Sheraton, Aemelia too - they don't know. They've worked a bit, here and there - but the rest of their lives had been handed to them."

"On a silver platter," Cordelia breathed - her eyes hardening.

"But don't bother getting bitter about, it's not like they chose it that way. They were lucky, you weren't - you're smarter because of it. You're not naive, and that may come in handy one day. Look at Jasmine - she doesn't see a world outside her own circle, and doesn't even come close to realizing the consequences of her actions. It'll hurt her some day. Even some day soon."

Cordelia smiled. "I look forward to it."

Miles sat back. "Careful there. I'm not telling you this out of the goodness of my heart. I'll still back her before you - I'm just keeping you in the game. You might be a somewhat worthy adversary some day." He stood and collected his books. "For a girl."

Cordelia bit her lip as he walked away. A girl. Bloody misogynism. They'd see. She would just have to bide her time.


	6. Chapter 6

"Gods, it's early," Sheridan mumbled as she bumbled about the bathroom. She had to be completely prepared to go to Hogsmeade after breakfast and she had a meeting with Snape before breakfast.

It wasn't so much a meeting as the only free moment he had to finally give her a birthday gift. 

She had no idea what it was going to be but so far her birthday gifts had been more than satisfactory. From Aemelia and Jasmine she'd received a beautiful silver pendant in the shape of an 'S', studded with tiny green emeralds and peridots. THe Quidditch boys had given her a beautiful silver bangle - which had the suspicious nature of matching the pendant. Jas and 'Lia were never exactly subtle. Neil and Cordy had bought her the auto-biography of Niniane - a tome she had been seraching for the past two years. Each of them had also handed her some form of alcohol -a traditional Slytherin gift of which the girls received wine and the boys other forms of harder liquor. Aemelia had given her a bottle of strawberry wine, Jasmine a black cherry liqueur she had said was called kirsch, a ridiculously expensive bottle of red from Ed's family's vineyards in Italy. Miles' present had been a bottle of vintage champagne from the year of their birth and Adrian's bottle had been a very nice sweet sherry she would have to keep away from her mother. Cordelia had handed her a bottle of dandelion one, alike to the one they had first gotten tipsy off of in third year and Neil a bottle of Sheraton's favourite rose. 

All in all, not too shabby, she'd be well into the alcohol for the next few months, although she would make sure to share. Her party was now a haze in her memory, of glasses and shots pressed into her hand again and again as the Quidditch boys toasted her - one for every year, it had lasted into the wee hours of the night. She remembered laughing, her head thrown back, as Julian danced her around the carpet of the house crest which dominated the common room - their clasped hands pressed in between their chests. She remembered Jasmine giving her a kiss on the cheek and wishing her a throaty "Happy birthday dearest," before Pucey swept her off into a dark corner. She remembered, and made sure he did as well - Miles' impromptu jig atop one of the low tables in front of the fire place. He had danced toward her and had succeeded in undoing three buttons before suddenly stopping and crumpling to a heap. He had still been there in the morning. The morning she had awoken in her own bed, Julian snoring in the chair just a few feet away from her head - his own head now thrown back and dead to the world. She had smiled, drinking the hangover potion of his own making that had been upon her bedside table.

Still a bit damp from her shower, moisturizer still in the process of absorbing, Sheraton caught sighed of Julian's gift. Her heart contracted a bit as she picked up the bottle of perfume and smelled it. It was beautiful, truly. A wonderful mix of lilacs and green tea - just like her. It was mildly disturbing that Julian knew exactly what she should smell like. Paired with the adorable fact that he had made the scent himself. She sprayed it on her pulse points and walked into her room to get dressed.

Anyways, today she'd receive her gifts from her mother and uncle, then the girls would be taking her shopping in Hogsmeade. She glanced at her watch and gave a small yelp when she saw it was already five to - she'd have to run now.

Severus Snape cursed the never ending pile of making under which he was sure he had a desk. Somewhere. It had been Sheraton's seventeenth birthday this past week and only now did he have a chance to see her privately. This 'chance' was for the hour between seven and eight a.m., before breakfast.

His life was in shambles all around him, between teaching, the Order, being a Death Eater, being a spy, playing Russian roulette with his own life, and his family obligations he had no time to sleep and barely any time for personal hygiene. He cringed as he ran a hand through his greasy hair - Sheraton was going to be furious with him.

He caught a glimpse of the gift Sheraton's mother had sent him to pass on to her daughter. It really was exquisite and she was going to love it. He couldn't hold onto his sour mood for long - nothing delighted him more than seeing Sheraton happy. She was the bright spot in his life - the reason he allowed that insufferable woman to take-over his house with her bloody tea parties. June had been a shining young woman in her youth, and had been drawn to his handsome, charming brother upon their first meeting. Janus' sudden death in Russia had been a great shock to her, a nineteen year old mother to be - suddenly a widow. Severus had taken up the familial responsibility and had installed her in his home. She had since acted as hostess for him - far more often than he would have preferred actually. The abrupt removal of her innocence had left her a woman who was charming and lovely, but not the most clear headed. She was prone to faints and illnesses - Sheraton had learned to fetch her mother's smelling salts from a very young age. Sheraton couldn't be more different from her mother - strong, ambitious, not one to define herself by her husband. Sheraton could go places with the right support, an achievement for a woman in the patriarchal Wizarding world. But she had certainly inherited her mother's expensive taste.

Severus thanked all the gods he could think of that he didn't have to support the two women solely on his Hogwart's salary - he would be bankrupted in a month. It still baffled him how exactly Janus would have planned to support them. But of course his younger brother had gone and gotten himself killed even before his daughter had been born. Damn boy always knew how to escape responsibility, and as usual it was left to Severus to pick up the pieces.

Sheraton's sunny voice interrupted his melancholic thoughts. Damn the girl - she was always barging when he was just getting into a good session of self-pity. He snarled to himself before forcing the thoughts away and focusing his attention upon her.

She rapped perfunctorily on the door before stepping inside. "Morning, Uncle," she greeted him with a smile, walking forward and bending across the desk to brush a kiss against his cheek.

He looked her up and down - she was wearing a black turtleneck dress that exposed most of her legs, down to pale nude pumps, her robe draped over her arm. "Pull down your skirt," he grumbled.

Sheraton rolled her eyes but obediently tugged at the hem as she sat down in one of the arm chairs in front of his fire. "You look tired."

"Always the polite one - sometimes I swear your mother raised you like a Weasley," he replied, moving to sit across from her, lifting her present to place it on the low table between them.

"Mother didn't raise me, Uncle - you did," she spoke softly but the emotion in her eyes was clear.

"Yes well..." he placed the present in front of her and bent at the waist to brush a kiss against her temple. "Happy Birthday, my dear. This is from your mother."

She smiled and lifted the box cover up and gasped. It was a tea set - silver and engraved with twisting vines and leaves. It shone in the firelight, she picked up the cream pitcher to run her finger along the engraved lines. "It's lovely."

"I believe it is from your mother's family, and she wished for you to have it. I think she has some sort of idea you have tea parties with your friends on Saturday nights."

Sheraton gave him a knowing look, "An idea you wouldn't discourage would you Uncle? You know how fragile my mother's health is and if she had any idea her only child wasn't an innocent, it might just kill her."

"I've kept your secrets for years child, you think I'm going to stop now?" he grumbled as she smiled at him.

"Since you're receiving something from your mother's line - I thought you might appreciate an heirloom of the Snapes." Severus fished the box out of the pocket of his robe and handed it to her. "These were your grandmother's -a redoubtable woman, much like you."

Sheraton opened the box with a quiet sigh, seeing the yellow diamonds glow in the dim light. The platinum setting was more elaborate than she usually wore but still classic. The stones themselves were huge - even bigger than those her mother owned. "Thank you so very much, Uncle." She rose to hug him, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. Her voice was muffled, Severus pretended it was from her speaking against his robes. "For everything."

The Three Broomsticks was bustling with activity and so full most people couldn't get a table, standing at the bar or in groups anywhere there was a spare square foot of space. The boys weren't 'most people' and all Edward and Julian had to do was stare at the third year occupants of a table and voila, it was suddenly empty. It was a large booth in the back corner, close enough to the hearth so that the October Chill was chased away, but far enough away from the crowd that they could retreat into the privacy of the shadows.

They all had previously agreed that no matter how hard they tried (which, admittedly wasn't very hard), they would never understand the female ability to shop. Continuously. No matter where they were. Hogsmeade not being a very large town, the boys had wandered through it in about a half-hour. Once that was finished they amused themselves by frightening third and fourth years out of Honeyduke's. That source of fun was put to a stop when the shop keeper, with a good hundred pounds on Pucey - the largest of them all, had chased them out, threatening to tell Dumbledore. Or even worse - Snape. Even Sheraton wouldn't have been able to talk them out of that kind of mess with their Head of House.

So they had contented themselves by flirting with some of the more daring 5th year Hufflepuffs girls, Bletchley even managing to get a kiss from a pretty blonde with a most amazing bust, her name may have been Hannah but he wasn't sure. They would be bothering him about that one for the next three months. Edward had somehow managed to make the one with gorgeous black curls burst into tears. No one was quite sure of why but when they had run into the girls moments later Sheraton and Jasmine hadn't been able to contain their laughter - Aemelia and Cordelia had practically carried them away to Madame Puddifoots'.

Now they were happily ensconced in the the booth, drinking butter beer and ribbing each other. Julian could actually be described as pink at the moment, though also quite defensive, as they were taking turns telling him how lovely Sheraton smelled. He was gallantly trying to turn their attention away from the pretty raven-haired Prefect by sparking a discussion on his newest Poitions experiment - the fire whiskey recipe currently brewing in his room

"So when'll it be ready?" Adrian asked eagerly, taking another swig from his bottle. Both Ed and Miles were watching his intake carefully. Neil was watching Chris upon Miles' request.

"Oh - well, I started it the first day back so I'm really hoping it'll be ready before the 31st." He frowned, his eyes glazing over in deep thought.

"Way to go Pucey, now he's gone for the rest of the afternoon," Chris kicked him under the table.

"It's not my fault he can't stay in the land of the living for more than 5 hours!" Adrian shot back angrily.

"I've not gone anywhere," Julian replied lazily. "I was just thinking about how we should go about choosing the lucky bastard to test it. I'm not entirely sure what proof this brew will end up. I myself can't test it because then no one would be able to reverse the effects on the off chance that anything does go wrong."

"Well that's easy," Montague drawled. "We'll do it properly, like men: poker, five card stud."

After about three rounds of betting on the side, Julian called the hands. The boys went around the table, showing their hands - all with straight faces as they saw what had occurred. Montague laid down a flush, Pucey a pair, Warrington two pair, Baddock three of a kind and Bletchley a straight. Adrian's jaw dropped then closed with an audible click as he scowled.

"So Pucey's testing," Julian announced un-necessarily.

"Bloody - hell! My Ace was high and I was sure Chris had a rotten hand," Pucey barked, flattening his palms on the table.

"Sorry to disappoint you mate," Chris clapped his fellow chaser on the back.

"You owe me 50 galleons, Ed," Miles said smugly, rubbing his hands together.

"Right, right," Montague just glared at the Keeper. He didn't know why he played against him anymore - he had gotten far too good at poker in the last year or two - but then changed the subject. "Baddock, when did you tell your bloody girlfriend to round up the bints so we can go home?" He had never been a very good loser and today and not been his day.

"I gave her a 5:30 curfew - which Jasmine will no doubt extend until 6," Neil rolled his eyes as he finished off his butterbeer.

"Not everything is Jasmine's fault you know," Pucey scowled at the others in front of him. "The other girls are equal party to any tardiness."

Edward rolled his eyes, "Are you so desperate for a shag, Pucey, that you feel the need to defend her? Is your hold on her really so precarious or are you just that bad?" The barb was biting and hung in the air between those assembled, until a crystal clear voice rang out from behind them. 

"Really Montague, if you're so desperate for a shag don't take it out upon those who are more fortunate than you. Just go and find yourself a Hufflepuff to plow - oh wait, you've tried and failed at that already." Jasmine came to stand at the end of the booth, her eyes stormy.

Behind her, Sheraton sighed - and her birthday had started off so well.

None of the girls needed an excuse to go shopping, but it was far more fun when they had one. Sheraton's birthday was the perfect explanation for the both exuberant and exorbitant amounts of money they were spending today.

It was only just past noon and Jasmine had already spent over 30 galleons. Sheraton and Aemelia weren't far behind with 25 and 23 galleons gone respectively, and Cordelia just simply could not fathom the way the girls burned through money. They never even bothered to look at price tags on desired items, it simply wasn't an issue. They never saw an actual total - they simply pointed their wand at the receipt and the scrawl of Jasmine and Aemelia's fathers appeared upon it, Snape's nearly unreadable signature appearing upon Sheraton's receipts, it would come out of their accounts, not those of their daughters or wards'. It didn't matter that Sheraton owned three different styles of nude dragon-hide pumps, there was a new pair in the cobbler and she simply had to have it.

Cordelia fumed as she followed them along the street, the three girls chattering. Her fingers rubbed over her cufflinks on her shirt - the silver disks with a snake engraved around the circumference that each Slytherin received in their seventh year. It sometimes seemed to be the only symbol of her inclusivity - Neil always had and always would be their friend. She was the unwanted but unavoidable part of the package. She grit her teeth as they entered the next shop.

"Misses Parkinson, Snape, Flint! How lovely to see you girls again," the elderly man crowed from behind the counter. Cordelia tried to maintain a pleasant expression as he merely nodded to her. Of course he was happy to see them - they were collectively responsible for a good tenth of his profits each year. "Ah but alas you are no longer girls - I am nearly overcome with the beauties all you young ladies have become." He winked at them as he came to kiss all of their hands and Jasmine kissed his cheek.

"You really are too much, Mr. Hyde," Jas's voice was a husky purr as she continued to shamelessly flirt with the man who could easily be her great-grandfather, an entire possibility for the rumours that still circulated about her great-grandmother's forward ways, riding a bicycle through Hogsmeade in her own seventh year.

"I speak only the truth, Miss Parkinson," he held his hand over his heart, a solemn look on his wizened face. "Now what can I do for you lovely ladies?"

It was 45 minutes later when the girls left the shop, laden with many more packages than they had carried before. Cordelia estimated that between them - over 85 galleons had been dropped, on shoes alone. Their packages transfigured or shrunk, they all made their way towards Madame Puddifoots, the birthday girl having announced it was tea-time!

"So what do you plan on wearing for Halloween?" Aemelia asked as the excited giggles died down.

The other two girls frowned a bit in thought. Halloween did pose a bit of a problem. The dungeons were normally freezing, even when the huge hearth was lit in the common room. That normally meant the girls compulsively wore cashmere, angora and fur-lined robes and warm clothes underneath. But on Halloween the common room was packed with the students from fifth through seventh year and the alcohol flowed freely. The combination of alcohol, sexual tensions and constant movement raised the temperature substantially - an entire new approach to clothing was necessary for this occasion.

"As little as possible, I'm sure," Cordelia chirped with a smile that earned her a dark glare from Jasmine. It was then they bumped into their boys, and learned of Montague's unfortunate luck with the Hufflepuffs and Miles' surprising score.

Tea had consisted of exquisite butter scones topped with fresh preserves and Devonshire cream, along with 2 full pots of the most expensive tea on the list. Sheraton had frowned when she noticed Aemelia had only nibbled at her scone, and there wasn't even any cream on it. She and Cordelia had each gorged on two liberally creamed scones and tea with cream and sugar. Jasmine had been more careful, only a single, albeit fully dressed scone and clear tea. 'Each to their own,' she mused as Jasmine insisted on covering the tab herself - well, as proxy for her father covering the tab, really.

Their next step was the jewelry shop, where they all pored over elaborate engagement rings. None had any illusions of actually receiving newly purchased and crafted rings - no, their rings would have belonged to someone's dead great-grandmother. It was still nice to dream. Sheraton would never say so, but knew her mother's friends all poo-pooed the woman with rings who hadn't seen at least a centennial, and as such would never want a new ring. 

"We've to meet up the with boys at the Three Broomsticks now," Cordelia announced at about quarter after five. They had hit every shop in the village and were quite ready to go home.

"Thank the gods for Julian and his promise to carry my packages home to the castle," Sheraton sighed. Aemelia, Jasmine and Cordelia shared a smirk. Julian was arse over elbows for their friend, even a blind man could see it, but if mentioned to Sheraton she became more frightening than her uncle in her denial.

"Well, aren't you a lucky one," Jasmine drawled.

"I wish iI had a big, strong, handsome boy - whoops, I mean, best friend at my beck and call like you do, Sher," Aemelia sighed dramatically.

"We're just friends," Sheraton ground out, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson against her ivory skin.

"Right," the other three snorted in unison, then looked around - more than slightly horrified by the action. As such, they walked the last hundred meters in silence.

Upon entering the Pub the malice coming from the boys' corner was palpable. Attempting to conceal their concern, the four moved quickly toward the obviously feuding males. Knowing instinctively the ring-leaders would be most likely Edward and Adrian, Jasmine and Aemelia pulled ahead. Jasmine came within ear shot first, in time to her Edward's voice ring out in the tense silence: " Is your hold on her really so precarious or are you just that bad?" 

"Really Montague, if you're so desperate for a shag don't take it out upon those who are more fortunate than you. Just go and find yourself a Hufflepuff to plow - oh wait, you've tried and failed at that already." She stood at the end of the table and actually looked ready to do violence upon the Quidditch Captain. Her voice had been silky smooth and by all outward appearances she was calm - it was her eyes which were frightening. More than frightening though, she was bloody gorgeous - not one of the seventeen year old males at the table would have turned her down for a shag at that moment. Which was saying a lot, as Montague and Bletchley had less than amicable feelings for her and that Baddock was practically married.

Aemelia took in the faces of the boys along with that of her friend and decided to step in, no matter how entertaining a full-out row between Jas and Ed would be.

"We're all here now so let's just go," Aemelia said calmly, taking Jasmine by the arm and staring at Ed intently, trying to convey the message of 'Move your bloody ass, you git' through her eyes.

"Yes, let's!" Julian stood so quickly he nearly toppled his chair back, a smile plastered onto his face for appearances sake as he moved towards Sheraton.

The group fractured into pairs and trios, Julian and Sheraton leading with Warrington between Pucey and Parksinson, followed by Cordelia and Neil. Miles, Edward and Aemelia took up the rear. Warrington was telling some rambling and utterly pointless tale from his summer to Pucey in an attempt to cheer and distract his friend. "It was a Wednesday - did I mention it was that Wednesday in June? Anyways, I'm flying around on my broom with, ahem - a girl I knew and I look over and she's fumbling around with her chest - she'd lost her bra somewhere over Bristol! So this hot Wednesday in June, I'm nearly falling off my broom laughing at this, she was really so angry..."

Neither Adrian nor Jasmine seemed to be hearing a word he said as they glared at both no one and everyone. Aemelia and Miles were trying to soothe Edward and keep him from ripping the pretty seventh year limb from limb - although Miles thought privately he would be just as likely to shag her senseless as commit violence. Cordelia and Neil were acting as a silent wall between the more volataile members of the group.

"Well, that was just a lovely way to end my birthday," Sheraton said dryly, crossing her arms as the sun began to set and the cold was settling over the path back to school.

"It's not yet over, love," Julian soothed softly. "I have something planned for you yet," He winked impishly towards her.

Her resentment melted away at Julian's words as she nearly choked. "You what?"

He laughed, "It's a surprise, and I'm sure you'll love it. So how was your day, excluding the past 15 minutes?" He changed the topic smoothly. Sheraton sighed at him, still curious but knowing better than even to attempt at prying - he'd show her eventually.

"I'm sure I will too. It was quite all right actually..." and she launched into a description of her packages, happily ignoring everyone but the man beside her.

Authors' Notes: Next chapter, all about those unrequited lovers you all know and love. And the above rambling stories is one of Sam's which she has actually told alike to that - to the amusement of all, especially Anna.


	7. Chapter 7

It was two weeks later when the chill had really settled over the area, settling espeically in the dungeons. Few people spent much time in the common room, even with a huge fire blazing as usual, the cold still permeated. After dinner, Sheraton had retreated into her room and had stoked the fire high - creating an oasis of warmth as she lay in her bed, reading her History of Magic text. It was after ten when she looked up to see Julian watching her from the door to the shared bathroom. She quirked an eyebrow at him as she rose up to lean on her elbow.

"And how long have you been there?" she asked softly as he strolled towards her. He was dressed for bed in black silk pyjamas, somehow he didn't ever seem to mind the cold like the rest of them.

"Not too long, I just finished taking notes on a few potions chapters and checked on the whiskey," he told her as he climbed into bed with her, lying on his side to face her.

She pushed away her own book to make more room for him and he moved so she could pillow her head on his stomach. "Will it be ready for Halloween then?" she asked, sighing at the body heat seeping into her. Julian was always like a roaring fire to her, so warm and comforting.

"Should be, I still need to have Adrian try it though."

Sheraton giggled, "How did you rope him into doing that for you?"

"He lost a poker game."

Sheraton snickered but suddenly shivered as Julian ran a long-boned hand through her hair. His fingers brushed against the back of her neck and she tried valiantly to repress a sigh. She had fantasized about those hands ever since last year. Picturing them cupping her cheek, brushing against her collarbone and moving ever so slowly downwards.

Sheraton bit her lip. "So..."

Julian's voice sounded amused. "So?"

Sheraton shrugged and he chuckled, "You're adorable - you know that?"

She lifted her head enough to stick her tongue out at him.

"Don't do that unless you're going to do something with it," he told her with a lopsided grin and at her indignant squeak he laughed outright.

"Don't patronize me," she told him with as much dignity as she could muster, lying in his lap only wearing a fitted tee shirt and ridiculously short shorts.

"I don't patronize you love, I just think you're fun to tease." He assured her, giving her shoulder a brief rub.

"Am I?" she asked archly. "Keep it up, Mr. Higgs and see how far my patience runs."

"It runs extremely far, Sher. Unless, of course, I... do.... this!" with only that for warning he suddenly pushed her off his lap and fell to tickling her sides and feet. Sheraton shrieked with laughter, trying to push him off of her but he was bigger and heavier. Soon he was tickling the extremely sensitive place right under her right ribs and she was absolutely helpless, tears running down her cheeks. And just as suddenly - he stopped.

Her eyes fluttered open and met his own. He was poised above her, his body aligned with hers - one hand braced against the mattress next to her - the other resting on her rib cage, only an inch from the underside of her breast. He was breathing harshly and so was she - her chest expanding into his and his pupils dilated as his mouth opened silently. The moment of silence stretched into two as he lifted his hand from her ribs to brush at the tears upon her face, his thumb running down her cheek to rest just above the jut of her lower lip. He expelled a long breath as she pressed her lips to the thumb, tasting the salt and something upon his skin that was undefinable yet undeniably Julian. Julian. Ian. Her best friend in the entire world - the only person she could trust absolutely in the dungeons. Her ally, her stalwart in the battle they lived in. 

She couldn't do this. They couldn't do this. But the want and the arousal now warming her belly - or could it be Julian's own warmth that was so comforting - were almost painful and she closed her eyes tightly.

Sheraton felt more than heard his exhalation of breath against her neck, raising goose bumps on her skin. 

"Merlin, Sheraton - I'm sorry. I'm too heavy - " he tried to move away from her but she opened her eyes and clutched at his forearm.

"Don't. You're not. Don't go," the words rushed out of her mouth before she could stop them.

The worry in his blue eyes faded away slightly. "Okay." He rolled to his side and pulled her next to him, lying her on her stomach and he began to rub her back in smooth, circular motions. She gave a small mewl that made him move his hips slightly away from hers, and settled her face into the cradle of her arms. As one hand rubbed at her lower back, his other arm extended to rest along her shoulders.

Sheraton felt utterly surrounded by his love. He was so warm, she mused. 'I'm so comfortable,' was her sleepy thought. 'I just want to curl up and sleep on top of him... wait! no! no no no! I cannot think of that visual right now.. think about something else! Something like - my uncle. Yes. My uncle is a good subject - and potions! Julian likes potions. Hopefully not as much as he likes me but... No! Stop that thought! Potions!'

"So how's your potions project going?" Yes, that is a good - safe - subject.

Unbeknownst to Sheraton, Julian's own thought process was whirling over the same precipice. 'Think unsexy thoughts. You are not lying in bed with a half nude Sheraton, her pale skin glowing in the fire light and she's not making little panting noises that make you want to find out what other kind of noises she makes. No! Not in bed with Sheraton, playing with her hair... The hair belongs to - Severus! Yes. You are... lying in bed... with your potions.... master. Damn, can't do that. No way no how. Far too creepy. Oh - bad mental place. Find a happy place! Find a happy place! Uh oh - happy place is Sheraton - naked! Can't think of Sheraton naked! Sheraton - naked, oh.... Stop! Shite - she, she just asked me a question. Potions! Thank Merlin she asked you about potions...'

"It's fine," he responded properly. "Wonderful actually. I hope it'll be successful - a perfect on my NEWTS practicum would really help my career."

She chuckled. "You're such a geek sometimes Ian."

"Yes, but you must remember my dear - so are you. Most girls don't go to bed with their history textbooks."

She shrugged but didn't enunciate a reply as she rolled onto her side, her back nestled against his front. Without even realizing it, he dragged his hand down her side and unintentionally grazed the side of her breast.

'Crap!' Julian winced at Sheraton's intake of breath - she hadn't quite moaned, but it was enough of another breathy sound like before that his entire thought process was clouded. He suddenly realized that his body had reacted instinctively and the way Sheraton was lying against him - she could probably feel it very clearly.

Neither one said a single word.

Both left out great whooshes of air as there was a prim knock on the door. Julian nearly leapt out of bed. "I'll get it!!"

"Julian!" she hissed at him. "You are not answering my door late at night in your pyjamas! Sit down!" she pointed at the couch in front of her wardrobe as she pulled on her dressing gown and moved to the door. She opened it with a bright smile that a first year could have identified as faked.

Julian buried his head in his hands and swallowed a groan. 

"I'm sorry for calling so late, Sheraton but one of the first years just had another nightmare and wants someone to sit with her. I'll do it but I just wanted to let you know." Pansy leaned against the doorframe, her pale pink fluffy robe nearly dwarfing her slight body.

"No! I'll do it, Pansy - don't worry. It was getting... stuffy in here and I could do with a breath of fresh air. I'll go and check on her - it is Nott, isn't it?" It was well known between the girls that young Diana Nott had wandered into her father's office one night, looking for a glass of water and a story and had found her father slitting the throat of a young girl on the couch. Her nightmares were a weekly occurence, and left her shaking. She didn't speak much as a rule, the fear in her eyes often spoke quite enough. Diana was the kind of child that Slytherin purposely made a part of the family - and children like her often threw themselves into the culture, looking for a place to belong and feel safe within the rules and constraints of the customs.

Pansy nodded, clearly happy to not have to sit up half the night with the often hysterical child and wandered off towards her own dormitory. Sheraton tied her robe closed and shot a glance at Julian. He looked so... forlorn sitting there and she felt awful running out on him like this. But it was all moving so quickly - and the thought of losing his friendship was extremely frightening to Sheraton. She needed more time to think.

"I'll probably be a few hours at least. Go on to bed, love," she put the emphasis on the endearment as she crossed to him, kissing the top of his head. "We'll... speak of this later." She went to leave but he caught her hand in his before he could and she turned back to look at him.

His eyes were nearly steel blue in their resoluteness. "We will speak of this, Sheraton. You can't run away from this forever."

She sighed and squeezed his hand, but tore her hand away to close the opening of her dressing gown closed and stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind her with a quiet thud. Leaving Julian alone in the warm room that smelled of lilacs and green tea - staring at the fire.

Julian wasn't the only one alone with his thoughts. Christopher sat in the common room, playing with his signet ring as he looked off into nothing. 

Earlier in the evening, he had wandered along the shelves of the library, the spaces between the stacks hushed and almost reverent. Every once in a while he would stop and pull out a book with a title that interested him, flipping through the pages lazily. He now carried three books - all for Care of Magical Creatures paper that was due at the end of the week, three feet upon the various forms of gryphons around the world.

He was so lost in his own thoughts it wasn't until he knocked hands with another person as they reached for the same book that he was shaken out of his inward reflection. He turned to look down into the sparkling green eyes of Alicia Spinnet, a mischievous grin upon her face as she looked up at him.

"I've been calling your name for a good five minutes, you know," she told him in her own particular husky voice that she reserved for him. "I realized that I would have to be more creative if I wanted to capture your attention."

"You know that I adore your creativity," he told her softly, setting his books down on the shelf. He opened his arms and she melted into them, her head nestling into the crook between his neck and shoulders. Chris was tall - at six foot one he towered over most girls but Alicia's willowy five foot eight of curves fit perfectly against him. He lowered his head to rest against hers and smiled as he breathed in the scent of her hair - the grass of the Quidditch pitch and the lavender of her shampoo. 

"I've missed you," she said softly.

"Me as well, I feel as though I never see what I eat I'm watching you so much at meals," Chris confessed.

She giggled. "I know - Angie noticed the other day. They think you're planning to do something nefarious to me during the match next month." 

"Well, I'm sure your goody two shoes friends would consider most of the things I plan to do to you nefarious - just not on the pitch," he grinned rakishly - though that was dropped when she smacked him on the chest.

"What in hell was that for, woman?" he asked.

She crossed her arms across her chest and scowled at him. "My friends are not goody two shoes. And don't call me woman."

Chris's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why not? You are a woman and more than that..." he reached out a hand and tugged at her arms until she was pressed against his chest again, his eyes boring into hers as he traced her jaw line with a delicate finger. "You're my woman."

"Y'know, for all that you're making me sound like some sort of empty headed object, that's sweet in a twisted, Slytherin sort of way," she murmured, her eyelids half closed as he now ran his finger up and down his side.

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment," he whispered back as he splayed one hand across her lower back to press her even closer.

"It is..." was all she managed before his lips crushed hers. Her mouth opened in a groan and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping through her mouth to reconnoiter in the crannies which he knew so well, but had not enjoyed in nearly two months.

He moved to press her against the bookshelf and Alicia took advantage of the leverage to hoist herself up with her palms and wrapped her legs around his mid-section, her hands moving to bury into his wavy, thick locks. She nibbled on his lower lip, their breath mixing together as their hips started to rock in time. His mouth left hers to trail down to her neck, where he sucked at her pulse point making her moan. Her eyes flew open as she suddenly realized the noise she had made - and where she had made it.

"Chris!" she hissed at him, pushing at his shoulders. "We have to ....stop... that right - oh Merlin - now!"

He pulled away to stare at her incredulously. "What?" He looked stricken, his finger tracing light patterns over her back.

"We're in the library!"

"We're alone for the first time in two months! And you want me to stop? You know you're enjoying yourself..." he coaxed, licking at the dip in her collar bone.

She bit her lip as she shuddered, but then smacked him on the shoulder. "Put me down this instant."

He looked away from her for a minute, his eyes going dark as his face set. Finally, silently, he lowered his knees until she could unlock her ankles and place her albeit unsteady feet on the ground. She leaned back against the stack, her chest rising and falling rapidly in a way that held his attention even as he tried to remain angry at her.

"I don't see why we have to stop?" he said quietly. "The number of times Adrian and Jas have taken 'study breaks' in here..."

"I'm not a Slytherin girl you can make do what you want, Chris," Alicia snapped.

His head snapped up. "There are no other girls with me, 'Licia." His face grew stormy as he stepped towards her. "Are there other boys?"

She swallowed as she looked up at him. "N-no!"

He placed a large hand on either side of her. They were both Chasers but muscled in completely different ways. She was long and lean and while he still had the height, his arms were bulky and his shoulders broad. The thought that he could literally snap her in half had never seemed to real to her. Until now. 

He lowered his head to breathe against her ear. "I'm a possessive man, 'Licia. I've never had to share and never intend to learn how. Those things I regard as mine - are mine. You are mine. The only reason I'm not with you every moment of the day is because you had the unfortunate fate of being Sorted into Gryffindork. I watch you to protect you - and I have every right to do so. Don't forget it."

Her jaw dropped and she rose up on her toes to be face to face with him. "Listen to me Christopher Eugene Ignatius Warrington. I belong to no one but myself. You can't tell me what to do - and you certainly have no right to claim me. We're not engaged - not even close - " her voice cut off as he grabbed her arm, his face a mixture of fierceness and tenderness.

"You don't think I'm marrying you?"

She stared at him - dumbfounded. "You want to marry me?"

He looked down at his feet, letting go of her. When he looked back at her she was amazed at the emotion she saw there. "You think I would do this if I didn't want to marry you? That I would send you letters? That I would consider not playing my absolute best against your team - because I don't want you to get hurt?"

She blinked rapidly, trying to grab a hold of the speeding Hogwarts Express that was this conversation. "You don't need to take care of me on the pitch, Chris. That's what I have a team for."

He shook his head abruptly. "I don't like you playing at all. It's too dangerous - no place for you."

"No place for me or no place for girls?" 

Chris probably should have heard the warning tone in her voice, should probably have seen the flash of anger in her eyes but did not - and so continued. "No place for women and definitely not for my woman."

He realized his mistake at her indrawn breath and stiffening of her posture. "Of all the mysoginistic," she stopped, bit her lip and reached out to grab his hand - then pulled him bodily from the library.

"My books!" he squawked.

"Screw your bloody books!" she tossed over her shoulder and his own jaw dropped at her language.

"'Licia! That is not language becoming of a lady!" by this point they had reached the corridor outside the hallway so her shriek was not shushed by Madame Pince.

"Lady?! You bastard! Listen here Chris - I am not a lady and I am not your woman! Do you understand me?! I play Quidditch dirty with the rest of them, I swear, I don't cross my ankles and we both know I can drink you under the table! I am not a Gryffindork or a Gryffindwhore and it's not a shame I am a Gryffindor. If I ever do agree to marry you - which at this point is extremely unlikely - it will be on these terms and not the romantic ideas you have of what I should be." She had run out of breath by the end, her cheeks flushed and she was breathing heavily as she continued to glare at him.

She was bloody gorgeous. "You're beautiful when you're angry," he breathed softly.

She stopped her foot. "Christopher!"

He dropped his arms to his side. "I'm sorry love - but you are. But I'm not sorry that I have opinions of how a woman should act and what she should be. I'm a Slytherin and I expect a wife who will be more than the love of my life, so be prepared to take on certain responsibilities. Because you are the love of my life. And you belong to me - and I belong to you just as much. If you can't understand that. If you can't be what I need now, when we're still at school and the only onus upon us is not failing. Later..." he reached out to take both her hands in his. "Later, love - it'll be a rough ride. A storm is brewing and ther'll be a war. I don't know if your precious Potter can save the day again. There will be very dangerous times and I need someone who I know is with me - who will present a united front with me and my allies. If you can't do that now - or then, I'll still always love you no matter what, but I'll find myself someone who can, who I can marry." He dropped her hands and leaned forward to press his lips against her forehead. He turned and began to walk down the hallway. He was nearly to corner when he heard a single word.

"Wait."

He turned to look at her. She stood alone in the corridor and then took a deep breath and walked towards him. When she reached him she reached out one of her hands to interlace their fingers, then raised her eyes to his own.

"I can. I love you. I do."


	8. Chapter 8

Adrian's face puckered in disgust as he threw back the shot. He smacked the glass down onto the table and clutched at his throat before turning his head to look at Julian, poised nearby with a nervous expression on his face.

"Merlin that stuff is awful - you're a bloody genius mate!" he exclaimed as he clapped the prefect on the back.

"So it's good?" Julian was grinning like an idiot at the gathered seventh years.

"No, it's gods-awful stuff - but it's alcoholic and I haven't died yet. A brilliant success in my book!" Pucey was smirking now and Sheraton rolled her eyes. Julian pulled out a quill and a piece of parchment, charming it to record his interview with the Quidditch chaser.

"What was it like? I mean, was it similar to Ogdens? I'm still not sure about one or two of their ingredients..." Everyone in the room would've given their left arm for that idiot little Gryffindor to capture Julian's intent face as he peppered Adrian with questions.

"Can we please just get this thing started?" Jasmine's voice had a definite whine in it as and everyone turned to look at her in astonishment and annoyance.

"What do you think we're doing, Jas?" Julian looked scandalized by her obvious lack of comprehension.

"Jas, why don't you go and finish getting ready. That or sit down and shut up," Adrian was glaring at her openly, not having appreciated her input.

"Fine," her eyes narrowed at him dangerously. "'Lia do you want to come with? I believe you wanted to borrow my new angora jumper." Both girls left the Prefects' bedroom, off towards their own - not before Aemelia threw a sarcastic look back at Sheraton.

The males all turned to glare at her now - the blame for her friends' cluelessness obviously falling upon her.

"Oi! It's not my fault she acts like that. You think I can control her any better than Pucey? Jasmine is her own person with her own opinions, misinformed as they may be." She earned a dark look from the aforementioned male for that comment - and the same look, she was cheered to see, being directed at him by Julian. She quickly quashed that thought.

"Well, seeing as how my presence here is such a source of consternation - I'm going to go get ready myself." Sheraton blew a kiss at Julian and then sauntered through their joint bathroom into her own bedroom.

Neil had watched her swaying hips with an appreciative eye and his jaw dropped when he saw you could see clearly into her room from the doorway. "By the gods Ian! You share a bathroom with her, can wander into her bedroom any damn time you please - and you still haven't worked up the nerve to shag her yet! If Cordy plays hard to get much longer, I may beat you to it!" He looked quite shocked, almost disappointed in his friend.

"She's my bloody best friend Neil - I barely recognized her as a girl until last year. Besides, she doesn't have anything I haven't seen before," Julian busied himself dispensing the whiskey into bottles to evade the knowing looks of his friends. There was a great deal about Sheraton he had not seen - he had dreams about those veiled parts of her every night. But he wasn't about to throw himself into something before they had a long talk - a talk which she had been evading for two weeks now. He resolved to force her into a conversation tonight, perhaps when they both had enough alcohol in their system to be more honest than usual. 

Miles snorted. "Sure Ian. Keep telling yourself that."

I will, Julian snorted internally. "Shut up you wanker and help me carry these bottles in." He hefted a box of half a dozen bottles filled with the amber liquid and Miles obediently grabbed another, Neil taking the third behind them as they strolled towards the common room.

Tonight was the ritual pre-party before the Quidditch game against Gryffindor the following morning. Restricted to fifth years and up, the younger ones restrained to their dorms as of eight, it was an opportunity for the players to relax after a grueling week of practices that had Montague being compared to the much maligned but still respected for his zeal, Oliver Wood. 

When the girls finally made their way in, a good fifteen minutes later, Edward raised his glass full of the whiskey to the group.

"Well mates - here we are again. And I know that since the arrival of the boy we all wish hadn't lived, we've had some tough times. But tomorrow - that will all change. You know why? Because we have the most scheming Keeper ever in our midst. Because our chasers - including, I , your valiant and violent captain should any of you screw up tomorrow - are so in synch it's frightening. Because our beaters, well - you do your best tomorrow boys."

Jasmine rolled her eyes and tossed back her drink. They were screwed. Simple as that. She zoned back in as Edward's attempt at a speech was rising to a fever pitch.

"- our Seeker! Yes our seeker! The quickest ferret you'll ever see! He can find the Snitch in the deepest of this bloody fogs!"

Aemelia leaned over to whisper into Sheraton's ear, "I'd believe it more if I actually thought that Malfoy could find his own ass with both hands."

She unfortunately made this comment just as Sheraton had taken a drink of her whiskey, which she tried not to spit out as she laughed, Aemelia joining in.

Edward glared at the two, but didn't miss a beat. "We will WIN tomorrow! Or you're all dead meat. Hear me?"

A rumbling, inconsistent reply of "Aye Captain" and Edward nodded. "Right then. Have a good time men - but you're to be in your dorms by ten, bed by 10:30. And by that - I mean alone, my good buddy Julian here," there was a smattering of applause for the master bootlegger of the evening," will be doing bed checks then. Cheers!" And they all raised their glasses. Edward finished off his and turned, flinging it into the fire where it broke with a satisfying smash. He turned back - a drunken grin upon his face and he flopped onto the couch between Aemelia and Jasmine.

Jasmine didn't both to spare him a glance, as she was currently raising Adrian's spirits for tomorrow through a thorough examination of Adrian's tonsils. The group had congregated around the long couch in front of the roaring fire, the seventh years in the middle with sixth and fifth years on either side. A group of sixth year girls were standing in a small circle, drinking slowly from their watered whiskey and sending big eyed looks towards Miles, whom had become a minor sex symbol in the school since his conquest in Hogsmeade and Julian, though he didn't notice them at all as he was holding his glass up to the light and muttering to himself over the consistency and colour. As someone conjured a music charm Sheraton gave a disgruntled noise and grabbed his hand, pulling Julian onto the large crested carpet to dance to the latest Weird Sisters song. Jasmine was too occupied to notice but later, when the songs changed from up tempo to slow, Pansy had attached herself to Draco, clinging to him so tightly as they swayed that not a molecule of air could have existed between them. Julian and Sheraton too had drawn closer, Miles and Aemelia watching them as they playfully waltzed a few feet away.

Sheraton had drunk more than usual, relaxing for a rare evening as she had delegated any emergencies to the other prefects. She had laid her head upon Julian's shoulder, nose nuzzled into his neck and his face was inscrutable as he held her tightly to him. 

Edward was trying to show Goyle and Crabbe the intricacies of a complicated play he wanted to introduce soon, having charmed some Zonko's chocolate covered flobberworms to zoom around as an example. The boys were watching the small pieces with intensity, but based upon the drool leaking out of the corner of Crabbe's mouth it was more for the edible rather than educational nature.

Aemelia nearly broke out laughing as Miles turned her around so she could see Chris off in a corner with two of the sixth year boys, who seemed to be playing some form of wizarding chess involving taking a shot of whiskey for every square moved. As his rook lumbered forwards, the pieces themselves now quite inebriated from the spilt drink upon the board, he lined up four shots with glee.

"Merlin, we're a sorry bunch," Aemelia murmured against Miles' shoulder.

He chuckled a bit. "What's wrong with having a bit of fun now and then? Even I get a bit tired of the scheming every once in a while."

Aemelia drew back to stare at him. "Who are you and what have you done with Miles Bletchely?"  
"I just forced a couple of drinks down his throat," he grinned at her, dropping her into a dip.

She laughed as he pulled her back up, wrapping her arms more tightly around her neck. She caught sight of Sheraton and Julian, now barely moving to the melody as they spoke softly to one another, pausing occasionally for one to caress the other - whether it be a palm on the cheek or brushing aside a lock of hair.

"Miles?" she asked softly.

"Yes, 'Lia?" he replied.

"Why do we only have this for evenings?" she pondered to him. "I would've thrown myself a parapet had I been sorted into Hufflepuff or worse, Gryffindor but I look at them sometimes and can't help but wish."

"What would you want from them?" his voice was husky.

"I don't know. They just seem so much - happier than us. I mean, we act happy and content and smug, but it's acting. I don't think it is for them. Considering a Hufflepuff's ability to lie is nonexistent - it must be real. Don't you ever want to be happy? Or spend time with your friends and not hold anything back? To... relax?" she let out a long sigh. "I'm not making any sense, it must be the drink."

He squeezed her around the waist. "No, you're making sense. Life would be simpler if we were there - but it wouldn't be our life by any means. We belong here - as much as sometimes I wouldn't mind throwing Jasmine off that parapet you mentioned, we both belong here and in a sense we're a family because of that. We're a family here because of our families, and the affection they don't show us. We don't show it either - but we all understand each other. So we're on our toes - we're smarter because of it. I wouldn't want to be naive and neither would you. And just because we aren't always totally honest with one another - doesn't make our friendships any less real. If anything, we have the strongest relationships of all the houses. How many Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws swear to help each other all their lives? Would give their lives for each other? We'd expect a fair monetary recompense for that kind of self less, stupid, action - but we'd do it." 

Aemelia nodded, then looked up at him with dark eyes. "Do you ever wish you and I could be a couple? Like - them," she nodded significantly towards Sheraton and Julian, and beyond to where Cordelia and Neil sat, his hand mysteriously unseen though.

Miles gave her a look of horror. "No. Are you mad woman? I wouldn't have you be a social climbing bint or dead? Because in all honesty, one of us would kill each other in a relationship, and I'm frankly bigger."

"But I am sneakier," she countered playfully.

"That you are love, but I'd just throttle you in your sleep at some point. Hard to be sneaky when you're exhausted, you'd have to go to bed eventually." His twinkling eyes assured her his threat was only in jest - you never could be quite sure with Miles though. He shrugged, looking away. "Besides, I'm technically already engaged."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? And how have I never heard of this? Are you carrying on some secret affair behind my back?"

He rolled his eyes, "Anything but. She's a girl from Durmstang, fourth year - some seventh cousin on my mother's side I think. They're Russian. She's supposed to be very pretty and obedient. Her family wants to build connections over here and are willing to shower my family with galleons to do it. She's younger than I, we won't be married at least until she graduates, should be easy to train her. It suits me frankly."

She gave him a long look. "Miles Bletchley, I think that has to be the most jaded thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth. I'm impressed, frankly." She giggled as he started to tickle her ribs and they danced on. 

Soon, too soon in the opinion of most of the partygoers, it was ten o'clock and Edward stood up on the couch.

"Excuse me - 'scuse - OI! Shut up!" The din faded as most turned their attention to him. "Right then, Quidditch players - off to bed ya wankers!" No one moved until he swayed on his feet, pressing a hand to his forehead. "NOW!"

Grumbling, Crabbe and Goyle stood from their seat - waiting for Draco to de-suction himself from Pansy, which he did rather reluctantly. She gave a dramatic sigh as he did so, mirrored by her elder sister a few moments later, detaching her mouth from Pucey's neck. 

Edward stood in front of the couch. "No grumbling, it's a big match tomorrow which we plan to win - remember? And when I say bed I do mean alone - very very alone!" He sauntered over to where Sheraton and Aemelia, both taking a break from their dance partners - Miles was currently teaching a sixth year with long brown ringlets the basics of a waltz among other things, were comforting Jasmine with a bottle of strawberry wine and giggling.

"Come wish me a bit of luck, 'Lia," he pulled her from the floor and circle of her friends. He wrapped his arms around her waist as she hugged him, rising up on her toes to brush a kiss against his cheek. Edward turned his head so that their lips met, softly. The kiss lasted for but a moment until he tried to coax her to move her lips and she pulled away. 

"Don't do this, Ed," she murmured, her eyes weary.

"Do what?"

"This - it's not really what, or should I say who, either of us want."

"It could be," he ran a hand down to rest on her hip, the alcohol slurring his words slightly.

Aemelia shook her head and stepped away from him. "No it couldn't. How much of Julian's whiskey have you drunk?"

"A fair bit. Enough that I think I shouldn't have said anything."

A small smile fell on her lips, "No you shouldn't have. But no harm done. Go to bed, Ed."

"S'where I'm headed."

"Good night then," she turned and wandered back to where Sheraton and Jasmine had stretched out on the couch.

"'Night," he called back. He was thus the last player to file through the arch, nodding to Julian.

"I'll do rounds in about forty five," Julian called back. He looked down to Sheraton where she had suddenly snickered at a comment of Aemelia's.

Jasmine raised her head. "Oi! Neil, get your hand out from under Cordy's skirt. We can -hic- see her knickers!" At her recently acquired hiccups, the three girls collapsed in laughter. 

Julian ran a hand along Sheraton's shoulder. "Ready for a bit of a talk, love?" he queried in a murmur.

She turned to look up at him, with hazy eyes but a bright smile. "Sure," she replied - letting him help her to her feet. She bid good night to her friends before they made their way back to their suite. She turned to look up at him, and leaned in to place a kiss against his jaw. "You're so sweet..."

Julian smiled down at her. Finally, they were getting somewhere. He led her into her own room and she stepped forward to fling herself onto the couch. 

Sheraton sat up and crooked a finger, beckoning him towards her. "C'mere." When he had sat next to her, she grabbed his hand so that he sat as close as he could and crawled into his lap. "I wanna tell you something important, Ian. We can have that talk now - right?"

"Of course love, as long as you feel like this is the right time to have it," the state of her inebriation was suddenly very clear to him. Julian allowed her to squirm a bit in his lap before stilling her movements with an arm around her waist.

She waved a hand in the air. "Of course I do! Now - you're my very best friend, that's a given. But..." her eyes became even more unfocussed and she wobbled a bit before steadying herself on his shoulders. "I love you Ian."

A smile grew across his face. "I - uh, oh Sher." he spoke as she suddenly let go of his shoulders and slumped forward into an unconscious heap. He sighed, his mouth twisting. "Bloody brilliant, love - just bloody brilliant." He picked her up and walked to few feet over to her bed.

"You're meant for bed now. Boy, did you get off easy on that one." He gently placed her down and climbed in behind her, wrapping himself around her protectively. Screw rounds. Malfoy could have a bloody orgy for all he cared - he just wanted to lie here with here. Maybe just close his eyes for a minute before going to his own bed.

But his eyes grew heavy as he pressed a soft kiss to her neck. "I love you too." And he was as dead to the world as she.


	9. Chapter 9

The party wasn't as raucous as it may have been had they won, but it was still loud. The common room seemed filled, as nearly every member of the House had taken the night off to both commiserate and celebrate with their Quidditch players. While Potter had beaten Malfoy to the Snitch again, he and the Weasley brothers, more formidable Beaters than any member of Slytherin would admit - had received a lifetime ban from the game. The mood was most definitely gleeful.

Yet, the party was still divided in a sense. The males had congregated in one corner of the room and the girls in the other. 

The boys had first gathered around Ed, plying him with drinks to try and coax him into good spirits but the loss weighed heavily upon him, the bans only raising his spirits slightly. So, they had left him alone to grumble and nurse a large glass of neat whiskey. A brave sixth year girl had tried to cuddle up to him, obviously enamored with the tall Captain but his snarls had quickly sent her running back to her friends in tears. They would have mocked him if they hadn't feared for their lives.

So the rest of the team and Julian had found themselves sitting in a group upon a circle of plush couches, toasting Malfoy's nearly valiant effort of the afternoon. After his third shot of whiskey, Chris leaned back against the couch and looked around - realization dawning on his face. "So guys - we're all men - why is this a sausage party? Half of you are attached, go and bring some of the girls over here."

Adrian shook his head. "Not me. I forgot to mention that I liked Jasmine's new shoes and now she won't speak to me. For the love of Merlin - they're EXACTLY the same as all the rest of her shoes. But when I pointed that out she just got even angrier, so now..." he looked terribly pathetic for a moment as he digested that he would most likely end the night alone in his own bed, before taking another drink of his butter beer.

"It's alright, mate," Draco slapped him on the back in a familiar way Adrian wasn't sure he appreciated. "I didn't notice that Pansy wore special Slytherin coloured eyeshadow today so I'm out on my arse too." They stared at each other for a moment, both looking a bit stricken.

"Why do we do this to ourselves? Why did we have to get involved with the Parkinson sisters?" They shared a lecherous grin before moving away from the rest to talk and drink in private companionship - sharing each others' pain no doubt.

"Oi, Sheraton, what's with the distance between you and Julian? You two are usually as attached to each other as I am to air," Aemelia joshed as she leaned back into the couch.

"We're allowed a little personal time - and I can breathe perfectly fine without him thank you very much," Sheraton huffed, crossing her arms across her chest and pointedly not looking across the room. "We can exist without one another you know - we are two separate people if you recall."

"But would you want to exist without him?" Aemelia asked, swirling her drink around her glass. "I'd personally find you a tad boring..." She ducked as the throw pillow whizzed over her head, directed by Sheraton's suddenly drawn wand.

"Shut it Flint," she hissed.

Jasmine and Pansy shared a conspiratorial smile, where they were curled up in the opposite sofa - a rare picture of sisterly closeness.

"And what you were saying about being two separate people," Aemelia leaned towards Sheraton - a dangerous grin on her face. "I personal think that you definitely enjoy when you two separate people come together and..."

"Does anyone want another drink? I know I do!" Sheraton stood abruptly, and spun on her heel to make her way towards the ice bucket that was filled with bottles of butter beer - the whiskey being kept separate to not fall into the hands of any especially young students.

"So you won't believe what I saw this morning," Pansy smiled in a way that Aemelia could only describe as evil and frightening. She made a mental note to never cross Pansy Parkinson.

"What?" Jasmine was staring at her sister expectantly.

Pansy's grin grew wider, "Julian in Sheraton's bed." She paused for the expected exclamations and with a smug grin, continued. "I went to talk to her this morning but they were both unconcious so I let them be."

Jasmine let out a whoop which attracted the attention of the entire common room.

"That's it 'Lia! Pay up! I was right!" She smiled triumphantly and extended an elegant palm to her friend.

"Nope, the bet hinges upon an actual, public, declaration by both parties that they are a couple." Chris had wandered over after Jas's display.

"You're just jealous because your wager time expired last month," she harrumphed, leaning back into the couch. Pansy prodded her in the shoulder playfully.

"I'll keep spying for ya, sis. I'll keep you informed,"

Jasmine grinned at her youngest sibling. "You'd better. Otherwise, I may just inform our parents of the position I found you and Malfoy in last week."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "At least they approve of Malfoy, unlike you and Adrian."

Both girls sat forward in their to regard their boyfriends huddled together, Draco's face both awe-filled as intent as Adrian related some kind of tale to him. Jasmine shuddered to think of just what he might be relating.

Chris pulled Aemelia with him across the room to join Sheraton and Miles by the drinks, presumably to pump Sheraton for any kind of information she may be keeping to herself.

Once they were out of earshot, Pansy glanced at her sister nervously.

"Jas," her voice was soft and as hesitant as Parkinson could sounds.

"Yes?" Jasmine watched curiously as her sister tinged a slight pink and stole a quick glance around the room, her eyes lingering again on the spot where their boyfriends were ensconced in chummy conversation.

"I think I'm ready," it was a clear statement for which Jasmine needed no further clarification.

"You do?" her eyes widened as she glanced between her little sister and Draco Malfoy. "With the ferret? You can't be serious Pans!" her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I don't need you mocking me right now, Jas." the set of Pansy's jaw and her tone told Jasmine what she was most dreading - her little sister was dead serious.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea Pans - I mean, you're only 15." Jasmine forced herself not to panic and to show no outward signs of nervousness.

"You're one to talk. You were in fifth year when you lost your virginity. What's this - do as I say, not as I do? I thought you'd help and support me in this Jas." Pansy's face was now red, but her voice remained soft.

"Help you..." Jasmine took in a deep breath and tried to regain a hold upon her emotions. "I will help you, Pans, because I can tell you've got your mind made up about it. But I will not support you. Yes, I was your age when I lost mine - but now, I think of it as being taken from me. I was naive and it was a mistake. I don't want you to make the same one - I want to keep you safe. When no one could keep me safe. Jamie didn't know he had to, he's a male after all. They don't understand. Just promise me you'll wait - " Pansy began to protest but Jasmine cut her off with a hand. "Just wait until after Christmas when we've gone to the Healer to get you some preventative potion. We don't want any mini-ferrets running around before their time, now do we?"

Pansy sighed, obviously bowing to Jasmine's will. "Fine."

Jasmine grabbed her hand, forcing her to look at her. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

The younger girl snorted. "That's why you're so discreet about shagging Pucey all over the bloody castle." 

"Pansy, don't curse. And what are you talking about?" Jasmine frowned at her sister as she chastised. It wouldn't do to have Pansy sounding like pirate.

"You're such a hypocrite Jasmine. You say you want to protect me, keep me safe when your own bloody actions - " Pansy stopped and exhaled, shaking her head. "Never mind. It's not worth it. Getting into a fight'll just ruin my buzz."

Jasmine furrowed her brow as her sister stood, then impulsively reached out to grab her sleeve. "Pans - if something's going on, come and talk to me - all right?"

Pansy gave her elder sister a long look, "Yeah, sure." then swept off towards the drink bucket, picking up another butter beer before going and depositing herself in Draco's lap. Adrian took this as a cue to leave and made his own way towards Jasmine.

He slid into the corner of the love seat and tugged her against him.

Her eyes were focused on the carpet in front of her. "You and Ferret-boy seemed to be having quite the heart to heart."

"Yeah, well," his breath brushed against her skin as he nuzzled her neck. "I was just telling him a few things, giving him some advice on handling women - and how to get them to handle you." He chuckled harshly as his hands skimmed up her side to pull her more tightly against his front. Jasmine shut her eyes tightly before turning to kiss him, drinking in the taste of the whiskey upon his tongue as she tried to ignore the nagging doubts in the pit of her stomach.

By the fire, Julian wandered towards where Ed sat upon the back of the couch, conversing with Crabbe about a few missed plays during the game. As he approached, Ed shooed the younger boy away to raise a glass to the Prefect. Julian settled next to Ed and the two watched the common room for a period of time. Crabbe now looked somewhat lost, wandering around - he didn't seem to be quite sure where Goyle was. Sheraton was speaking animatedly to Miles and Aemelia and as she laid a hand on Miles' arm, Julian's grip tightened around his glass. Ed hid a smile as he took his own drink. He had wagered for the two to come clean about their relationship in January - he could only pray they would keep on playing these games with one another until then. Finally, the two turned their gaze to Draco and Pansy in the corner.

"Adrian and he spoke for a period of time earlier," Julian said quietly, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass.

"I noticed," Edward replied, just as nonchalantly.

"That's trouble just waiting to happen."

"No - really Ian? I had no idea," Ed shot his friend a scathing look.

Julian rolled his eyes. "He was instructing Draco on the ways of the female sex, or his opinions upon the subject matter."

"An informed talk then," was the sarcastic reply.

"Too true - he was encouraging Draco to 'lay claim' to Pansy as soon as possible, was how he put it."

Ed glowered, "He keeps that kind of talk up and we may feel that it is within the bounds of morals to notify her eldest brother. Bad enough that he's playing around with Jasmine, when - " he cut himself off.

Julian gave his friend a sidelong look. "What?"

Edward shook his head, smiling slightly. "It's nothing."

Julian nodded slowly, and decided to drop the subject. "So - you'll watch Malfoy for the rest of the night then?"

"Not on your life. I made sure he was in bed by ten last night and I have to police him during practices and games. He is yours tonight and with my compliments. It's not like you have Sheraton to distract you - you love birds haven't spoken two words to one another all day. Did you have a row?"

"Not exactly."

"Well, I didn't really want to know anyways. Watch Malfoy, and don't let Pucey poison his mind anymore. He looked more likely to jump Jasmine than Pansy while he was still having 'story time'."

"He'll go to bed with his hand if he knows what's good for him."

"And you can hold off on laying your claim to Sheraton for a few extra hours. I have some sixth years I have to cajole back into good humour. Have fun." Ed nodded curtly and made his way over to the aforementioned cluster of girls, grabbing another glass of whiskey on the way. Sheraton was still talking to Miles at the drink bucket, while Aemelia had moved on to play strip poker with Chris and another sixth year girl and boy.

Neil and Cordelia were suspiciously absent from the party.

Miles had also noticed that the seventh year couple were missing. He smiled internally, remembering Baddock's comments earlier in the week, and the way he and Whitby had been all over one another the previous night. Maybe, just maybe, the little cock tease would finally put the poor bloke out of his virginal misery. Miles realized he'd had enough butter beer when he couldn't stop himself from snickering out loud at his thoughts.

"Whom do you deem worthy of your mirth tonight, Miles?" Sheraton's eyes glinted with a drink induced - though still malevolent - humour.

"Not that it's any of your business, Sher, but our dear 'Lia over there has unfortunately just lost the right to wear her shirt." 

Sheraton pivoted to peer at the game, then shrugged. "Like it takes a poker game to get her to lose her shirt. She's nearly as bad as Jas sometimes, they're far to similar - especially in regards to whose attention they try to capture."

Miles coughed slightly. When Sheraton drank she had a tendency to let slip small details that didn't seem like much, but were significant indeed. Not that Aemelia's affection for Adrian was unknown to him, it was just good to have it verified.

He reached out and plucked the drink from her hand. "I think you've had enough for tonight, my dear."

She shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Whatever, I wasn't planning on drinking myself into stupor anyways."

Miles hid a grin as he noticed her action had prompted a quick, longing glance from Higgs by the fire. The poor bloke was himself an open book when it came to the Potion Master's niece. He wanted her something fierce. Julian could even very well be in love with her. And Sheraton knew it. Miles flicked his eyes away as the two prefects avoided one another's eye. Gods, they were even worse than Neil and Cordelia.

His attention was drawn away from where Jasmine, who had freed herself from Adrian's grasp, to drunkenly tease Blaise Zabini, who she had caught snogging Goyle - when Sheraton's eyes suddenly focused and narrowed.

"Where's Neil and Cordy?" she asked shrewdly.

The door to the boys' dorm hit the wall with a bang as Neil pushed it open, not letting his lips leave Cordelia's neck. Once he had closed it and put a DO NOT DISTURB charm upon the door, he propelled her in as straight a line as he could manage towards his bed. After an unfortunate run in with the couch, he had sworn it had come out of nowhere, he had her pressed up against one of the posts of his bed.

Cordelia was sighing softly as Neil pulled his jumper over his head as quickly as he could, kissing her again as he stroked up and down her back with his hands. He was surreptitiously pulling her shirt from the waistband of her skirt when she stopped him.

Her pupils were dilated as she looked at him seriously, her chest heaving in a most distracting manner. "You will marry me - won't you."

He stared at her. "Tonight?!"

"I'm not proposing you dunce!" she smacked him on the chest. "I just want...a guarantee from you that this will end in matrimony."

"Why the hell not!" He quickly realized this was the wrong answer as she straightened. Neil slid his arms around her waist in a cajoling manner. "Yes, of course I'm going to marry you, love." He nibbled at her earlobe and she melted against him.

She looked up at him with hooded eyes. "Well then, do continue dear."

He didn't need any more encouragement. He lifted her onto the bed, she giving a little squeal as he covered her body with hers as he flicked his wand so that the curtains drew closed around them. And the dorm was quiet again.

It was close to three am when Chris gave the charm on the door a dirty look. "Bugger. Of all the nights the bastard has to convince her to spread her legs..."

Ed rubbed a hand through his already mussed hair. "I'm not sleeping in the common room."

Miles nodded morosely, but then his expression brightened as a light dawned. "We don't have to. C'mon men." He led them back down the corridor and turned left, leading them to Julian's door. As they arrived, identical evil smirks crossed the four boys' faces. Miles quietly opened the door and they all slipped in, the door closing again without a sound.

Edward stripped off his jumper and belt, then stretched out on the couch closest to the door - Adrian doing the same, also shucking his pants, across the room pushed two chairs together. Miles and Chris exhanged a conspiratorial look and a leer as they headed for the bed. Each boy climbed in on opposite sides, inching towards where Julian lay, already unconscious, in the middle of the large bed.

As they settled down, Julian snorted and they froze. "Go 'way, Sher," the prefect mumbled. "Too tired..."

Miles and Chris exchanged incredulous looks as they both grinned, and simultaneously smacked his shoulder.

"Wha!?" Julian shot upright in bed. "What in hell are you two doing in my bed?!"

"Will you three shut up - some of us are trying to sleep!" came Ed's voice from the couch.

Julian was still looking around the room with a confused look on his face when Sheraton walked into the room, dressed only in a simple silk nightgown. She crept quietly towards the closer side of the bed.

"Love..." she spoke softly, reaching out a hand and touching a shoulder.

Chris turned to grin at her. "Why, Sheraton - I didn't know you cared."

She shrieked, jumping into the air as she saw the three boys in the bed. She shrieked again as a pillow whizzed by her courtesy of Edward.

"Shut up!"

She looked around wildly. "Just - what- is going on in here?"

"Well, we've missed our cuddle sessions with Ian here since he moved out, so we're paying him a bit of a visit," Miles told her with a grin, sliding a hand across Ian's shoulder.

Julian flailed as he pushed the hand off of him, crawling rather ungracefully out of his own bed.

Sheraton was giving him a wide eyed look. "Is there something you haven't been telling me, Ian?" she was just drunk enough to believe most anything, and to be emotional about it.

At the waver in her voice, he reached out to draw her into a hug. "No! They're just being prats, Sher. Can I sleep on your couch tonight?"

As she nodded, a snort came from Adrian's chair. "Sure, Ian - you'll be sleeping on her couch. Maybe you believe that..."

The previously flung pillow silenced him with a satisfying thud, and as Julian followed Sheraton into her room - the Slytherin dungeons were finally quiet. 


	10. Chapter 10

It was one of those dreary Scottish November nights, when the winter was settling over the castle in a dense fog and lashing rain. The cold and damp permeated they very stones of the castle, especially in the already cool dungeons. Most of the castle had turned to hibernation, reading in bed or playing games in front of the fire.

But it was warm in the Prefects suite.

Julian had been brewing all evening, completing the latest phase of his advanced dissertation. He was planning upon continuing his Potions studies at the Bath School of Magick - and to do so had to submit a proposal of study. He had been working on this potion all week.

He bit his lip as he counted rotations of the glass stirring rod in his head, checking the temperature of the flame at the same time. 'Fifty six, fifty seven, fifty eight...' Once he had stirred in this crushed dragons tooth, the potion would sit for the next two cycles of the moon - until just after they all returned from the winter holiday.

'Sixty four, sixty five...' He let out a deep breath of relief. "Sixty six and seven," he spoke, a grin growing across his face. With the final stir, he lifted the rod out of the cauldron and tapped it upon the edge to shake off any excess drops of solution. He placed a cover upon the pot and moved it off the flame to the secured cupboard underneath the bench. Humming to himself, he cleaned up the bench, putting away his materials, then looked down at himself and cursed.

He had somehow stained another shirt, the brown dots spreading across his stomach. He unbuttoned the shirt and moved towards the bathroom, tossing it into the hamper by the door for the house elves to clean. He glanced into the bathroom. And stopped, a smile growing on his face.

Sheraton stood at the vanity, her hair piled atop her head as she rinsed out the glass she used to rinse her mouth with. She reached up and loosed the tie from her hair, shaking her head so that the raven waves fell down her back. Sheraton opened a drawer and pulled out her silver hair brush, beginning to pull it through her hair. She would brush it exactly eighty four times.

Julian had always been aware of Sheraton and her ways. She was his best friend - how could he not be?

But, living in such close quarters over the past few months had exposed entirely new parts of her to him. And there wasn't a single one he didn't love.

Like now - as she put down the brush he knew what she would do next. She would plait her hair into a braid, tying it off with a bit of elastic as black as her hair. She watched herself in the mirror as she did so, breathing deeply to calm herself in bed. He couldn't help but appreciate the way her chest rose and fell in the thin grey nightgown she wore, edged with a darker grey lace along the bodice and hem. Julian found himself leaning against the doorframe, transfixed as he watched her.

She reached into the drawer again and pulled out a slim tube of hand cream. She smoothed it over her hands, so that they would be so soft when she touched his cheek. The smell of lilacs wafted toward him. It was a scent he always attributed to her, the foundation of her scent as she moved through the day. She smelled also of hints of tea in the mornings, ink in the afternoons and coffee when she had been up too late - when there was a blurriness in her dark eyes when she looked at him. The blurriness that made him want to lift her up and tuck her into bed, and then tuck himself in beside her. On top of her. Under her. He really did not care. His trained nose drew him to her - as did most everything else attract him to Sheraton. 

He had watched her for so long, he suddenly realized that she was returning his gaze in the mirror. Sheraton placed her palms on the counter and turned her head to look at him coyly over her shoulder. "Just what are you doing, Ian?"

He smiled at her. "Just watching your little nightly ritual."

"My ritual? Am I that predictable to you now?" There was a heat in her gaze that he hadn't seen clearly before.

He walked towards her, to stand behind her. "Don't get me wrong, Sheraton. I love your rituals - you take on this calm air during them."

An eyebrow quirked, uncannily like her uncle's own expression, but Julian didn't dwell upon her resemblance to the Potions Master.

"Is that all you love about me?" her voice was husky as she asked him the question.

Julian smiled, slowly - and just as slowly shook his head. "Not at all." He stepped closer to her - he could now smell the lingering hints of the perfume he had made for her, from where she had dabbed it upon her neck. 

He dropped his head to place a kiss upon her shoulder. "I love the way you glare at me when I come up with an answer in Potions faster than you." Another kiss- just an inch above her clavicle now. "I love the blissful look upon your face when you have your first sip of tea in the morning." He brushed aside her plait, its brush across his bare chest making him shiver, despite the warmth. He laid a softer kiss at the place where her shoulder and neck met. "I love how serene you look when you read- and the flush on your face when you're yelling at one of the Quidditch boys." He licked at a point halfway up the column of her neck - and when he blew upon it, it was her turn to shiver. "I love the shape your mouth makes when you call me 'love'." He raised his head now - and their faces were next to one another, staring at eachother in the mirror. Two dark heads, close together. Her eyes were wide, and her cheeks flushed.

She smiled at his reflection. "Is that all?" she whispered.

He chuckled, the sound resonating from deep in his chest. "Not at all." Julian reached out and turned her face to his. "I love everything about you, Sheraton June Snape." And he leaned forward to press his lips to hers. 

Sheraton pressed herself against him, one arm twining around his neck to tug him even closer. The other slid down his side to find his own hand and their fingers tangled together. Their breath mingled as she opened her mouth against his and he took advantage and deepened the kiss. His hand moved from her face to her waist, tugging their lower bodies against each other. She gasped as their bodies seemed to align perfectly. He had a few inches on her, but not too many that her neck was straining as they kissed, but enough so that she felt cradled and protected in his embrace, stretched out along his chest. 

Her lips left his to nibble along his jaw line, moving towards his ear. As she bit it lightly, he groaned and she could feel the reverberations of the noise.

She pulled her head back to look at him. His blue eyes were stormy and dark - but still full of love and affection for her. The fact that they held no little lust for her made her grin inwardly. She traced a hand along his cheek.

"I love you too, Julian."

Her voice was soft but clear. Julian swallowed the lump in his throat as he lowered his head to brush his lips softly across hers. This kiss wasn't about passion, it was about all the love they had, their friendship and the joy in finding one another.

As he moved from her lips to suck at her pulse point she whimpered softly, then whispered, "Do you want to move into my room? Not that the bathroom isn't romantic..."

He lifted his head to look at her intently. "Are you sure Sher? Because once we start into this - I don't think I'm ever letting you go."

For the first time in months, Sheraton didn't feel worried or anxious. For a moment, she stopped worrying about the war and her uncle and her friends - and just looked at the man in front of her. She had watched him become a man - and had loved him ever since he had sat down next to her in Potions in second year, declaring she was the only one in the class smart enough to be his partner. 

She nodded her head, a smile ghosting upon her lips. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life." She stepped away from him then, tossing a look over her shoulder as her hips swayed with her walk. "Are you coming then?"

He followed after her and grabbed her around the waist in the door, pressing her against the frame as she giggled. He began running a hand from hip to neck and it was then her turn to groan. She returned the favour by circling a hand around his own hips and he panted into the kiss they shared. Hands roamed, and so did lips. 

"Oh I'll be coming all right, and you will too." He sucked her lower lip between his. "Again and again." He pulled her flush against him, both hands splayed across her back and walked backwards, towards her bed.

"Make sure you don't make any promises you can't keep, Higgs." she taunted him as she stretched out her neck, offering more space to kiss.

"Oh - believe me, I don't." The back of his legs hit the bed and he pulled her with him into the soft comforter. There were few other words spoken.

The hazy, grey light of morning was trickling through the curtains when Sheraton opened her eyes. She blinked once, twice and then gave a soft sound of contentment. She was warm and comfortable, pressed up against Julian's front. She blinked again. Julian's front. She was in bed with Julian.

It wasn't as though they hadn't slept or curled up together before. Just not... pink spread across her cheeks as realization dawned. Just not naked.

Just not with love bites on her neck and breasts and even further down. 

So they'd had sex. That was for sure.

Sheraton took a deep breath in and out and she remembered the previous night. It had felt so right to be with him, to kiss him and be with him. It wasn't just the sex, but in the moments after when they were entwined, before sleep had claimed them both, their breath mingling as they looked at one another, quiet or speaking about absolutely trivialities. 

In retrospect, she had to admit she was surprised it had taken this long for them to reach this point. They were best friends, knew nearly everything about one another. The fact that sex had always been one of the subjects they had pointedly avoided was a sign of their attraction for one another. But they had been most definitely compatible in that respect, Sheraton blushing again as she realized how much. 

This was the logical progression in their relationship. So why was she so scared? She shifted slightly, unsure how much she could move before waking Ian up. Sheraton had absolutely no idea how that conversation was going to play out. Would he like this as well? Or would he regret his actions last night. She didn't think she could survive if this destroyed their relationship - Julian was her rock. With a rock hard chest and well-...

That train of thought was abandoned as he gave a little snort, pulling her more tightly against him as he awoke. Sheraton went as limp as she could in her tense state and feigned the deep breaths of sleep. 

Julian shook his head slightly to chase away the last of the fatigue. He'd slept so well, the sleep of the, well - sated.

A wolfish grin grew across his face as he looked down at the girl in his arms. His girl. He traced a hand through her long hair, spread over her shoulder. Wow. She was all rumpled and slightly red, a few of the love bites he had given her prominent. She was gorgeous.

He tensed then. Shit. What if she wasn't as pleased with this turn of events as he was. She had seemed pleased last night, he had made damn sure of that - but would the light of morning change her mind. She'd better not. He wasn't going to let go of her without a fight. 

He looked down at her still face again. Then gave a small sigh.

"Sher, stop faking it. You're not asleep."

Her eyelids fluttered open and she gave a little frown. "How'd you know?"

"Because you sleep with your mouth open and drooling," he told her with a small smile.

Her forehead crinkled as she turned slightly in his arms to look up at him. "And how might you know that?"

"C'mon, Sher. It's not like this is the first time we've woken up together. Just usually, I'm clothed and so are you." His eyes trailed down her body, his marks stark on her skin. "I must say I prefer this way of waking up and your bed is much more comfortable than your couch."

She blushed under his gaze. Somehow - without saying the words, both had established that they were indeed happy with this new situation in which they found themselves. She snuggled closer into him, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck.

"Shush, Ian. Let's just go back to sleep."

He smiled softly, hugging her too him. "Yes ma'am."

Right before they drifted back into the unconcious she murmured against his skin, "Love you."

"Love you too."


	11. Chapter 11

Jasmine knew it was getting late, but she really didn't want to go back to the common room. It was far too noisy down there, the moronic firsties throwing spit balls at each other and consequently hitting everyone else. Not even the combined wrath of Sheraton and Julian could shut them up for long. None of the upper year students could ever get any work done down there. In fact, most fifth and seventh years retreated to their own rooms or to the library. Tonight, Jasmine had retreated to her favourite study carral in the back of the library by the large stained glass windows. The light had died long ago, but Jasmine kept on working by the glow of the candles.

Cordelia had been insufferable due to her state of nirvana since the post game party. She was constantly crowing about the new depth of she and Neil's relationship and how she was now guaranteed a ring. It would be coming any day now, according to Cordelia. The bloody nit wit still hadn't figured out they ALL knew she'd shagged Neil - he'd had the stupidest big grin Jasmine had ever seen on his face for the next week. 

Jasmine wanted to scream in frustration. This weeks' potions essay on adders tongue was way beyond Snape's usual cruelty. He wanted six feet from them! She had five and a half after a good two hours of solid work in the library. She'd finished all her Charms reading for tomorrow before starting on Potions. This paper, thank the gods, was at least not due until the end of the week. She had saved Arithmancy for last, finally giving up on Potions for the night. Jasmine often surprised many people with her love for Arithmancy. She loved the precision of balancing equations, always knowing that there is a clear, absolutely correct answer to every problem - her respite in the often murky world. The Quidditch boys let go above the pitch, she let go through numbers. She would much rather spend her evenings up here with her Arithmancy than with Snape's potions and smelly ingredients any day. 

Jasmine sucked distractedly on the end of her braid, contemplating the effect of vectors and body movement when casting the mobilicorpus. It looked right, but she was sure the answer was wrong somehow. Which meant she had to go back a few steps and check...

"Oh!" was her soft exclamation as a pair of warm lips connected with her neck. 'Gods, he is such a vampire.'

"What's a girl like you doing in the library, doll face?"

"Um, working. Its this great hobby you should try and pick up in order to do something with your life."

"What exactly do you plan to 'do' with your life Jas? Do you really need Arithmancy to make breed babies and throw parties?"

She slammed her text book shut, causing the few students near her table to jump and glare at them.

"Bugger off Pucey."

"Why doll? I thought maybe we could get some alone time up against the stacks?"

Even Cordelia's drabble was better than the bullshit which poured out of Pucey's mouth these days.

"I don't think so," she pointedly turned back to her work but he didn't take the hint.

"Why not? Do you really have something better to do?" His hand was running up the inside her thigh and dammit if she didn't feel the shivers of pleasure only increased by his nibbling on her earlobe.

"No Adrian."

"Please, Jas..." he was seriously whining now.

"I said no."

"Fuck, Jas, it's been so long."

She rolled her eyes, two days was not torture. Two weeks would be excessively cruel, but two days - 'give me a break,' she sighed mentally.

"No. N-O. Learn to accept your fate, Pucey."

"Wow, what did you read in here that's made you such a bitch?" Adrian sat back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"So now I'm a bitch because I won't shag you up against the stacks?" her eyes flashed murderously, but her voice never rose above a dangerous hiss.

There was no reason to be here anymore and she just didn't want to go through the routine of fighting, then making up with Adrian. So she simply stood and left, leaving her books; either Adrian or Madam Pince would collect them for her.

Did no one respect the fact that she just wanted to be left alone today? Walking out of the library and into the cool corridors, Jasmine realized how flushed she was and that her braid was too tight.

She slowed her pace, taking in deep, slow breaths as she undid her plait. It felt good to have the heavy mass freed and hanging down her back.

"Well, do continue Jasmine. Though I'd personally love to see you loosen much more than your plait," Jasmine stiffened at the familiar drawl.

"I don't give free shows and don't do shows at all for ferrets."

"Tsk tsk, I wasn't aware you were that picky. You know I just want a preview of what your sister will do for me in not too long."

Jasmine stopped and whirled around to stare at Malfoy, standing there in the flickering torch light like he owned the world. She was going to smack that expression right off his face.

"Oh, so you've changed your mind then?" He smirked at her with a confidence unbecoming of a fifteen year old.

"Not on your life," Jasmine hissed as she moved towards him. In her heels she was just under 6 feet and towered over his 5'5. "And if you know what is good for you, you'll NEVER speak to Pansy the way you just did to me. If I hear anything from her, or anyone else, you won't - "

"Won't what?" he interrupted her with a harsh chuckle. "You can't touch me."

Jasmine almost laughed. The ferret thought SHE was threatening to use force on him.

"I wouldn't have to tough you: one owl to my brother and a few words to Julian, and you'll never create that precious Malfoy heir."

She was sick of dealing with life today. Jasmine turned and headed back towards the dungeons. She was contemplating the fact that her day couldn't get any worse when she heard her sister's shrill voice.

"Look, I'd really love to waste my breath chatting mindlessly with you two nit wits but I do have a life."

"If you call following in your sisters foot steps a life."

"I heard she shagged every male Slytherin from fifth through seventh year in her fourth year."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh I would've thought it was a legacy you'd be proud of?"

"At least she had the taste to shag her equals, I don't know of a single Slytherin who'd shag you Margarita."

Jasmine had been standing stock still, and only shook herself when there was a tap on her shoulder. Pucey handed over her books and notes, looking at her questioningly: Jasmine wondered how much he'd heard.

Just then, Pansy came barreling around the corner and stopped upon seeing them.

"Oh well, isn't this touching." she tried to bruch past them.

"Pans, wait," Jasmine grabbed her arm.

"What?" Pansy rounded on her, eyes bright, yanking her arm free.

"What was that all about?" At the younger girl's puzzled look, Jasmine elaborated. "Those girls and me supposedly shagging random Slytherins."

"Oh that? Welcome to my life Jasmine." Pansy tried to move past her again but Jasmine stopped her.

"And that's supposed to mean?"

"It means that I get shit like that from most people in the school. Uh huh, I'm automatically a slut because you can't keep your knees together. I get propositioned on a weekly basis by Ravenclaws who assume I'll sleep with anything, male or female. So thanks big sis, for creating such a proud legacy and reputation for me to live up to." Pansy looked ready to burst into tears. Jasmine's day was snowballing at this point.

"I'm sorry that the rumours about me have backlashed onto you."

"You see, I could deal with it if it were just rumors, Jas. But when seventh years propositioned me last year, to make a comparison between sisters, I realized just how true it was."

"Hey, that's not fair!" Pucey tried to intervene between the two.

"Shut-up Pucey! You're part of the problem, don't even bother trying to come up with a solution." Pansy pushed past them successfully this time: Jasmine was too shocked to stop her.

"Hey doll face, don't listen to her, she's only angry..." Adrian wrapped his arms around her waist.

Jasmine recoiled at his touch and pulled away violently.

"Don't touch me!" she yelled over her shoulder as she fled down the stairs. She needed to be alone before her day became any more catastrophic.


	12. Chapter 12

Dear Sir,

I hope you and mother are both well. I received a letter from Robert recently, may I ask if you've told mother yet? I'm assuming you have not since I haven't heard her screams from Yorkshire. What do you plan to do with the woman and the child? It at least shows that it's not Robert's fault that his marriage has produced no children... I never really liked Flauvia anyways.

This shows why I think Cordelia will be a good choice for me, bringing in someone who isn't quite so over bred. Robert's position has given me a new perspective upon the recent understanding that Cordelia and I have come to. Therefore, I'd like to propose to her sooner rather than later. Her family will obviously offer no objection so I see no need to go to her father. Besides, if I may be frank with you, it'll get her off my back. I'm fond of her but when she gets annoyed there's a particular timbre to her voice which I simply despise. I have enough affection for her that I simply prefer to keep her happy. 

I'm looking forward to seeing you all at Yule, please respond as to my request.

Your respectful son,

Nathaniel 

Dear Neil,

For the last time, don't call me sir. Reminds me that I'm old enough to have sons who are married and about to be engaged. And of course you have my blessing to propose to the girl. We've all learned an important lesson from Robert's most recent escapade. We will invite her family for dinner over the holidays, though I still think it would be prudent for I to speak to her father beforehand. You can obtain a ring before that time I'm sure. 

Good luck to you son, and extend my greetings to your fiancee. Your mother and I look forward to seeing you at Yule.

Your father,

Lawrence Baddock

Chris,

I can't wait for the holidays to get here. Our little chats in the library don't even come close to getting to spend nearly two weeks with you. I know you'll want to eat with your family when we get back, but meet me in your greenhouse at 10. I'm also looking forward to New Years considering that our parents generally are out all night. I think Albert is going out with his friends as well. Perhaps you and I could celebrate privately... Owl me back. Kisses.

Alicia

'Licia,

I knew I loved how your mind works but my admiration for your intelligence grows every day. A private celebration for New Years sounds ideal. I'll be in the greenhouse with bells on. I'll bring over your present on the day after Yule as usual, the Montague party on the day itself is sure to be a total bore. Till then, love. 

Chris

Later, Chris would reflect that they were famous last words...

  
  



	13. Chapter 13

It had snowed last night, covering the grounds in a glittering, white drape. The snow was fresh and undisturbed by even the wind under Jasmine's window. The pane to which was fogging slightly from body heat, as she nestled into the window seat - the chill kept at bay by the coverlet from her bed. She smiled, looking out over the Estate always made her feel secure. Something about being at home, surrounded by her family - including Jamieson's new bride Magenta - put her at ease. No matter that their Mother had been in a flurry since she and Pansy had returned from Hogwart's, ordering the house elves around and owling Madame Malkin personally. It was still Yule. 

The sun had risen a little higher in the sky and Jasmine knew she was in danger of being late for breakfast, but she could bring herself to move just yet. 

There was a firm knock at her door, "Jasmine are you up?" It was the resonant voice of her older brother.

"Come!"

"Hey there lazy-bones, what's so interesting outside?" Blythe Jr. sauntered into the room and stooped beside Jasmine, lifting her legs and settling comfortably beside her in the small seat. 

"It snowed last night," Jasmine smiled up at her eldest brother. The tall, sandy-haired man was smiling down at her, looking every bit as impish as his ten-month-old son Devon. 

"I know." He was continuing to grin at her like an idiot. 

"What?" It was starting to worry her, his obvious delight at something of which she was unaware could only mean he was about to lord something over her. 

"Nothing," he frowned a bit, then went back to grinning. "So you coming down for breakfast now?"

"If you'd leave so I could get dressed, yes I'll be down."

"Right then - I'll shove off." He stood and returned the way he'd come. 

Well that was certainly queer. Jasmine frowned as she dressed, pulling on a simple black cashmere jumper and a hounds-tooth skirt, which were worn under a sleeveless charcoal robe. Her long legs were kept warm in thick, black, winter stockings, and her feet incased in black flats - this was a family event after all. 

As she made her descent into the main foyer, she could hear her family gathering in the dinning-room. The chatter of lids coming off the buffet was cause for Jasmine to cringe - she was late. 

"Jasmine, how nice of you to grace us with your presence this morning." Her Mother's cheerful voice belied the scolding undercurrent.

"I apologize for my tardiness Mother, I was admiring how beautiful Parkview looks this morning and lost track of time. If it weren't for Blythe, I would never have made breakfast at all." Jasmine smiled as she moved to kiss her Father. 

"It's alright Angel, the Estate is always lovely this time of year." Jasmine thought she might be imagining it, but her Father held her close for a few seconds longer than usual. 

"Happy Yule Mother." Jasmine leaned over to kiss her mother as weel and was enveloped into one of her Mother's rare embrace's. 

"Happy Yule Jasmine." Hyacinth Parkinson was not an emotional woman, but her eyes were glassy when she released Jasmine. "Go get your tea dear."

"Yes Mother," Jasmine glanced at her sister questioningly as they moved along the buffet. Pansy just shrugged her shoulders to say "Your guess is as good as mine."

Once she sat down at the table, Jasmine frowned into her tea, but quickly smoothed out her features at her mother's warning look. Breakfast was as usual, a fairly simple and unexciting event. The buffet consisted of Eggs Benedict, bacon, sausages, champagne and orange juice, and assorted fresh fruits & cheese scones.

The boys ate with relish, piling 3 of the rich egg & muffin concoctions onto their plates. Jasmine frowned at her sister-in-law as Octavia took a large helping of bacon; it wouldn't do for the younger Lady of Parkview to put on anymore weight. Surely the baby had been a viable excuse, but he was ten months old now.

"Jasmine, stop frowning, you'll line your face permanently." Her mother's voice cut through her thoughts.

"Yes Mother," Jasmine smiled at her parents as sweetly as possible.

"Octavia dear, that's a bit much for you isn't it?" Jasmine forced her face to remain impassive as her mother ignored Octavia's embarrassed flush to move down the table to gently chide each one of them. "Pansy, that lip mark on your glass is atrocious, do wipe your mouth before you take a sip."

Blythe Senior and Junior were oblivious to the women as they discussed some new merger Parkinson's Potions Providers was about to engage in. Jamieson had his arm draped across Magenta's chair while reading some article on new Artihmantic equations in the reversal of some transfiguration incantations Jasmine was itching to read. She was stuck between pestering her brother about the article and eavesdropping on her father. Her mother and Octavia were embroiled in a discussion about what colours to do the Ballroom in this year, which Pansy had latched onto.

"Jasmine darling, what do you think? Should we do the traditional emerald and silver or like Octavia is suggesting, navy and gold?"

Jasmine rolled her eyes internally. She couldn't care less about ball room colours and Octavia's clinging to her Ravenclaw heritage. She was just excited at the thought of seeing her friends again and seaking off to one of the Montague's empty rooms at the party tonight. She was looking forward mainly to drinking the pilfered champagne and fire-whiskey - not that her mother needed to know that.

"I agree that the emerald and silver is a bit over done, but I don't like the navy and gold any better. Why don't we skip the metalloids entirely and go for shades of dark green & maybe some purple - it's very chic right now. And deep plum is so regal." The 4 other women in the room were staring at her, none had the ill-manner to gape, but they were as close as any Parkinson came to gaping. 

"You've always had beautiful - if a bit odd - taste Jasmine, but whatever you want darling you'll get." It was Jasmine's turn to gape at her mother; when in the name of Salazar had her opinion gained any sway? Seeming to realize Jasmine's confusion at their mother's declaration of her new found leverage Jamieson's face darkened briefly, before he put his paper down. 

He glanced at his father meaningfully, "Father, I do believe we should move to the library now." At his son's look, Blythe Senior turned his eyes to his wife. A long look passed between them, causing Hyacinth to redden slightly. Why on earth it appeared Jamieson had just chastised their Mother was beyond both Jasmine and Pansy as they shared a look. The sisters trailed behind the rest of the family, who were busy with a babbling Devon. 

Yule was always a festive season at Parkview. The ever extending family would gather for the week and attend a round of international parties with all the other prominent wizarding families in Europe. Jasmine and Pansy were only allowed to attend the British and selected French parties, but the parents occasionally traveled as far as Egypt and New Zealand. Tonight was the annual gathering at the Montague's English estate. 

Cecily Montague was a renowned hostess; Hagan House was always breath-taking, the food beyond comparison, free alcohol flowed all night, and ever prominent Wizard in Europe could be met there. For both Jasmine and Pansy it was a bore they couldn't wait to get over with, the thrill of new robes faded with the endless stream of patronizing questions. An up-side to the event was getting to see their far-flung friends for a few, nearly un-chaperoned, hours. In the hours before the party Hyacinth would go into a fit trying to get herself looking flawless as well as ensuring her childeren and husband were turned out in perfect form. All this while attempting to arrive within the limits of fashionably late. 

Most of today's presents were for Blythe's son, as the newest heir to the Parkinson line, he and his mother were showered with gifts and praise almost constantly.

Yet Jasmine was surprised at just how much she herself received. A beautifully engraved ebony trunk with her initials and jasmine flowers inlaid with ivory, containing a family album, ivory with emerald coloured trim satin sheets and a beautiful, gray wolf-skin shearling robe. But the biggest surprise was the emerald and diamond tiara she knew her mother had worn for her wedding. 

"Why don't you try it on Jasmine?" Her mother's voice was strained, as Jasmine looked up at her parents. She looked back into the box to see that nestled on the pillow and encircled by the platinum band was a thick cream envelope.

Jasmine pulled out the package and opened the flap hesitantly, her hands were starting to shake and she could hear her heart beating in her ears.

The parchment was thick and the document was two pages long. The title caused Jasmine to suck in her breath : 'Betrothal Agreement'. Not sure if she really wanted to know, Jasmine scanned the page, searching for the name of the other party. It didn't take long; the third line held the two concerned names'. "Edward Montague and Jasmine Parkinson."

She felt numb, totally and utterly numb. Her family was watching on expectantly and it was all Jasmine could to not to tear the parchment to shreds. They were trying to ruin her life.

Her father was staring at her, as if to say 'Well, what do you think'. He looked so pleased with himself. 

Dear Merlin, she was actually shaking now, shaking like a leaf as she repressed a cry.

"Thank your Father Jasmine," her mother was no longer smiling and her voice was icy cold.

"Thank you Father. I'm... speechless." With that, she rose quickly and walked calmly out of the library - away from her family. As soon as she was out of sight, Jasmine started to run, she ran through the large manor house towards her suite of room, anger and betrayal vying for dominance in her.

Flinging open the door to her room Jasmine started flinging anything in sight: all the books and trinkets on her shelves, the hangings on her bed were shredded and ever the chairs and desk found themselves overturned. Her temper tantrum through, Jasmine stood in the middle of her now destroyed room, her chest heaving. She flung herself face first into the bed and began to sob. Her whole body was shaking and she could only gulp in air.

How could they do this to her, her own parents? They were supposed to love her, not sell her off to the enemy!

She'd always thought her parents would allow her the choice of husbands at the very least. It had been unlikely that she would be the sole decision maker in the marriage, as Sheraton would, but Jasmine had always assumed she'd be given a list of acceptable suitors to choose from at graduation.

The door to her and Pansy's adjoining bathroom creaked open. "Piss off!" Jasmine yelled into her pillow.

"Jas, it's not as horrid as you're making it out to be. He's a good choice and a perfect match for you; socially and mentally. You just need to get a little perspective."

Jasmine rolled over to glare at her sister. She hadn't really expected sympathy from Pansy, but for once it would have been nice to find an ally in her sister.

"Perspective? Get a little perspective Pans: he hates me! And I hate him! Ed treats me like I'm some whoring Hufflepuff who hasn't the brains to stay out of his way. He's a prat worse than bloody Malfoy with an ever increasing ego! I HATE HIM!"

"He hasn't got an ego bigger than he deserved Jas. He's very smart, a natural leader, amazing at Quidditch, pure blooded, extremely wealthy oh and did I mention dead sexy?" Pansy's face was clear as her mirth but out at Jasmine. 

"GET THE HELL OUT!" Something inside Jasmine was threatening to snap.

"Okay, okay. I just wanted to tell you Mum said the cream pencil skirt, cream cowel-necked jumper and that new shearling robe; you do remember that the Montague's barely stoke the fires. Maybe you can change that?" Jasmine was no longer facing her sister, but knew full well the younger girl was smirking in a perfect imitation of her boyfriend.

"I'M NOT GOING! And get out! NOW!" On that note, Pansy sauntered towards the bathroom. Jasmine squealed with rage and threw a pillow at her sister, where it hit her square in the back of the head with a satisfying thump. Pansy hollered in indignation and slammed the bathroom door closed.

Hyacinth was the next person to interrupt Jasmine's sulk. The woman was already impeccably turned out in a beautiful, bronze, slubbed-silk sheath dress which show cased her still slim legs and ankles. Over it she had a sheer, emerald coloured, robe adorned with tiny jeweled buttons. Her hair was swept up in combs and she wore only staple jewelry which consisted of her wedding rings and a pair of diamond earrings. 

"Jasmine, I know this has been a bit of a shock for you but if you aren't ready we're going to be late. We're expected at the Montague's by six-forty-five, which is in an hour. I was under the impression Pansy - "

"She told me. I'm not going." Jasmine cut her Mother off without even turning to face her. It did no good to make her Mother more upset - especially not before a major social engagement - today however, Jasmine didn't really care how angry her mother was. Maybe if Hyacinth was angry enough she's understand how Jasmine was feeling, the younger girl reasoned. 

"Jasmine I don't have time to play these games with you tonight. Just put your clothes on; you're the guest of honour tonight so you must attend."

"I'm what?" Jasmine's blue eyes enlarged as they met her mother's serious gaze.

"Tonight is the announcement of your betrothal - I assume you at least remember the ceremony from Jamieson's last summer?" Hyacinth snapped.

"Of course I remember it." Jasmine couldn't believe this was happening, her life was actually ending. By the time she returned to Hogwart's the entire school would know about her engagement to Edward; if they weren't at the actual party. Maybe Luck would be kind to her tonight and someone would object to the match.

Not bloody likely, she thought glumly. 

"Good - the carriage leaves at six-thirty. Remember I want you in the cream out-fit. You'll want to look subdued and beautiful tonight, so skip the blood coloured lipstick." And with that Hyacinth was gone to supervise someone more pleasant than her petulant, older daughter. 

There would be no point in trying to reason Jasmine out of this fit. She should be thrilled by such a lucrative match, but then neither Hyacinth nor Blythe had been thrilled with their partner in the beginning. Over the first year of their marriage it had become clear that their parents had made the correct decision. By the birth of Blythe Junior their relationship had progressed to loving. It might take longer than that for Jasmine to warm up to the young Montague, but they had the rest of term to work it out. 

As predicted, the Parkinson's two enchanted carriages left Parkview at 6:30, flying quickly under concealment charms. As tradition demanded, the men rode in the first carriage and the women in the second. So, Jasmine sat surrounded by her sister and sisters-in-law, the whole while glaring at her mother. The same woman who had barked at her to take her hair down in order that she at least look like the innocent she was expected to be. True or not, Jasmine was a - mortified that her mother felt it prudent to point out her knowledge of Jasmine's activities, and b - furious because she knew she looked prettier and more elegant with it up. She attempted to use the second argument on her mother, who promptly pointed out she wasn't supposed to look elegant or refined, she was trying to give the impression of a seventeen year old who was beautiful, innocent and nervous, not furious, about her impending marriage. Damn the woman for always being if not right, at least one step ahead.

Not even the house, lit up in all its glory could maker her smile; nor could Octavia and Magenta cooing about the added decoration on her behalf.

"Why don't you girls go calm your husbands down - I'm sure Blythe has them worked into a state by now. Pansy, I'm putting you in charge of keeping your father in line, he's more nervous than Jasmine. You can remind him he still has one more daughter," Hyacinth was smiling and chatting pleasantly with the other girls, but they didn't need to be told twice to bugger off, and leave mother and bride to be alone.

As soon as the three other Parkinson women left, Hyacinth rounded on Jasmine.

"It is highly unbecoming of you to be sulking at a moment like this. You knew this would be the year of your engagement and I can't honestly believe you thought your Father and I would allow you to marry that Pucey boy? It's bad enough that you've been running around with him since the Flint's summer ball, but to allow it to continue would be too much - you may actually end up foolishly feeling something for him." Jasmine was dumb-founded. How the hell did they know about Adrian? She's been so sure to be discreet in public! Pansy was going to pay for being a little tattle tale.

"Anyways," Hyacinth interrupted her daughter's thoughts. "I expect you to behave as the proper lady that you are, polite, warm and grateful to the Montagues." Jasmine gritted her teeth, praying to every god in existence that they wouldn't stiff her by watering her wine. "Nor will you speak to the Pucey boy alone at any moment." With a look that brooked no argument, Hyacinth left the carriage with Jasmine on her heels. 

Her father strode over and wrapped Jasmine in the tightest hug she'd ever receieved.

"We all love you Jasmine. Make us all proud in there tonight with that beautiful smile, Angel." He kissed the top of her head and between both her parents, Jasmine made her way towards the doors of her own personal hell.

The house was bloody freezing. It was all Ed could do to keep himself from shivering as he huddled close to the drawing room fire. He understood that it would be unbearablely hot with the five hundred or so guests in the house by eight, but it didn't stop the house from freezing colder than the Slytherin dungeons' beforehand. 

Ed stared enviously at his father's glass of scotch, shit, at this point he would settle for a glass of the sweet sherry his Mother was sipping. Instead he opened the small silver box in his hand for the millionth time this hols. It had been handed to him upon his arrival and his Father had told him to keep it visible; a reminder of his fate so that by tonight he could happily accept it. They had told him as the united front his parents always were, that the marriage to Jasmine was in his best interests, and it nothing else went well he'd be a wealthy man with 4 beautiful children. 

It was the eve of the announcement and he still couldn't wrap his mind around the situation. He would be putting a beautiful piece of his heritage on Jasmine's finger and watch his father and Jasmine's greet eachother like close friends and business partners rather than as the rivals turned polite aquaintances they had been for over thirty years. The ring really was a beautiful piece of art. The center diamond was easily two carats and surrounded by a square of half carat diamonds and flanked by 2 single carats, raised slightly out of the platinum setting. The whole effect was elegant, just on this side of ostentatious, a carefully crafted piece of art - it would suit Jasmine perfectly. 

"Well son, I believe that is the Parkinsons arriving." Roberto Montague turned from the window. He patted his son on the shoulder as Edward began to stand. Cecily enveloped her son in a warm hug. Edward smiled at the small, frail-looking woman who had been such a strong presence in his life.

"I'm trying to be happy about this Mum, I know you think it's best and for you I will try."

"We know Edward, and you'll understand soon enough." Cecily wiped quickly at her eyes and brushed a strand of chestnut hair behind her shoulder. "Go get your girl and give her that lovely ring." Roberto took his wife's hand and squeezed; Edward noticed that his father smiled when she squeezed back.

Jasmine's rather large family filed into the atrium, led by the former and her parents. Not that the Parkinsons were anything close to the Weasleys, but they were the largest family of any of his parents circle, with four living children. Edward was surprised by how poised Jasmine was, walking calmly between her parents. Her long hair hung in loose waves to her waist, glowing a muted gold in the candle light. Her cream skirt and form fitting jumper showcased her lithe body without exposing her or making her look trashy. 'Her mother must have dressed her tonight,' Edward thought unkindly. Her silver jewelry was modern and sat flat to her chest and arms, shaped like snakes but without the traditional eyes or tongues favoured by most Slytherin women. It was so simple yet the artistry caught his eye. He could see that her elegance came from her mother, for the woman on Jasmine's right was the spitting image of Pansy, perk little nose and all. Jasmine, he noted idly, had her father's stronger nose and blue eyes. 

It was odd to watch as Mr. Parkinson and Mr. Montague smiled and shook hands, looking genuinely pleased to see each other. They launched immediately into shop talk; it seemed neither was really prepared for the coming evening or allowing their children to cross the threshold into adulthood. Edwards was grateful when his mother moved forward to touch his father's arm and say quietly, "Roberto you have all evening to discuss potions, but the other guests should start arriving shortly." Both men had the decency to look a bit sheepish.

"Of course. Edward, will you come here please." The two Montague men stood side by side, Ed was even height with his father and both looked determine and confidant.

"Blythe, Hyacinth; it is our honour to tell you my son accepts the offer of your elder daughter." Roberto shook Blythe's hand before moving to kiss Hyacinth's hand. He turned to face Jasmine with a warm smile while his eyes roamed her body, only for a moment before she was confronted by his dark eyes. "Welcome to Hagan House Miss Jasmine." He took her arm and led her away from her parents, across the entry way and to Edward's side.

Ed couldn't take his eyes off her and they made eye contact as she soon as she was past her parents. Her blue eyes were crystal clear and filled with righteous anger. She looked to him as though she was daring everyone involved to push her just a little farther. Her heels echoed through the hall as she crossed the mosaic of the Montague family crest.

"Hello Jasmine," Edward smiled but he knew it looked cold and heartless. Part of him was screaming that this was no way to treat your future wife, while the other part wanted to make her pay, play by his rules for once. He wasn't sure where either desire came from and found that a bit disconcerting.

"Edward," she nodded her head in his direction without breaking eye contact.

Silently he opened the small box, presenting the ring to full view. He watched Jasmine's face as she appraised the ring, searching for some kind of a reaction. He wasn't sure to be pleased by the flash in her eyes, but decided not to care.

Jasmine presented her left hand, which Edward took dispassionately. He slid the large ring onto her fourth finger.

He watched her face, fascinated as the mark of indifference began to slip off. Jasmine was obviously fighting the same torrent of emotions he was. They were all jumbled in his stomach, innumerable and unnameable as they pitched. He wasn't sure if he should thank his father for keeping him out of the scotch or curse him, it wouldn't due for him to be sick all over Jasmine, but the alcohol may have saved him from the nerves in some part. 

He cleared his throat, waiting for Jasmine to act on her final part in this farce of an engagement ceremony. She was just staring at the ring on her finger, expression unreadable. 'Gods, I hope she's not like this all evening. It's going to be bad enough as it is, last thing I need is to deal with Princess Parkinson in shock, or worse, sulking.'

As though reading his thoughts, Jasmine suddenly looked up, a smile playing dangerously on her lips. She stepped towards Ed and kissed him full on the lips. He was surprised by the softness of them and how demanding the kiss was. In fact, he let out a startled gasp, which Jasmine took full advantage of by sliding her tongue past his lips. She tasted like whiskey, overlaid by peppermint and her tongue was silky. The combination was wreaking havoc on his seventeen year old body.

Just as quickly as she had started the kiss, she ended it by taking a step back. The kiss couldn't have lasted more than half a minute or the adults would have made a move to break them apart. 'Where the HELL did she learn to kiss like that?' In all his seventeen years, no single kiss had ever been... like that.

The unnameable feeling was quickly replaced by anger once Ed took in the smug look on her face. 

"Enjoyed that Ed?" his eyes narrowed dangerously at her, praying none of the onlookers had caught that.

Before he could answer, she moved on to chastely kiss his Father and warmly embrace his Mother; finishing the familial acceptance ritual. Now all that was left was for the guests to arrive, when the public announcement would take place.

That was when the shit would really hit the fan. 


	14. Chapter 14

The carriage ride to the Montague's party never seemed very clear in Chris' memory. It was a ride he made with his parents every year on each Yule Eve, and so they all blurred in his memory. He and his father would banter about Quidditch, his mother would cluck at them both and they would all chuckle. His relationship with his parents was remarkably relaxed compared to those of his friends. Their family home was in Dover, outside of the hotbed of politics of the more central counties. Chris frankly preferred it, preferring to be an outsider and observer rather than thick in the morass of intrigue. He rather enjoyed being able to sit back and chuckle at the situations his friends found themselves in.

            The Montague home was lit up like a beacon upon the hill where it sat. As the Warrington carriage pierced the silencing charms around the drive and rolled to a stop in front of the stairs leading into Hagan House, a burst of sounds became audible. The chatter of hundreds of purebloods blended together as Chris and his father stepped out of the carriage, both helping his mother down. Through the high windows, candlelight shone and the figures of Slytherin revellers were reflected upon the snow banks.

            The line of newly arrived guests stretched up the stairs. His mother immediately blended into a group of her friends, his father following her to greet the husbands and Chris spotted the cluster of his year mates halfway up the steps.

            Blowing across his hands, he slipped in between Sheraton and Aemelia, grinning as he accepted kisses on the cheek from both. Julian proffered a hand, "Happy Yule, Warrington. Nice of you to finally join us."

            Chris shrugged. "I figured I'd let you get a place in line and spend less time outside."

            Sheraton nodded abruptly, Julian's over robe draped over her shoulders not seeming to fully guard against the cold, "Why they can't hold the bloody receiving line inside I'll never know."

            Julian tugged her against his side and ran his arms briskly against hers. Chris couldn't help but notice the little giggle she made as she cuddled more closely against him.

            "I suppose it's not so bad when you have someone to cuddle up with," Aemelia didn't bother to ignore noticing it.

            Adrian on her other side snorted and crossed his arms. "Where the hell is Jas?"

            "Coming, I'm sure," Miles took a surreptitious sip from his flask and passed across Adrian and Aemelia to Chris. Chris took his own slug before handing it to Julian. Julian offered it back when Aemelia snatched it from his hand. "Oh for Merlin's sake," she muttered as she tossed back a mouthful.

            The group was still laughing when Neil pierced the crowd to come towards them.

            "Baddock!" Julian called out, then his jaw dropped as they saw who was following behind him, a kidskin gloved hand clasped in his much larger one.

            "And Cordelia?" Sheraton asked with an arched eyebrow.

            "Play nice, Sher," Aemelia hissed. "If I have to suffer, so do you."

            "Happy Yule!" Cordelia said with a bright smile as they joined the circle.

            "Cordy, I don't think I've ever seen your family here before," Adrian drawled.

            Aemelia elbowed him in the ribs as Cordelia flushed slightly. "I'm not here with my family; I'm here with Neil's."

            Neil threw a comfortable arm around her waist. "Cordelia and I were betrothed this afternoon," he told his friends calmly as he gave them all a steely eye.

            The muttered 'Congratulations' that echoed through the group seemed to somehow convince Cordelia of their sincere joy as she blushed and murmured quiet thanks while obtrusively flashing a heart shaped diamond at the group.

            Aemelia and Sheraton shared a wry glance behind Chris' back.

            "Not a family stone."

            "Store bought even."

            "I get really nervous when you two start speaking in such hushed tones, but I'm not quite secure enough in my sexuality to join in. So unless you want it repeated in the group..." Chris mused out loud, turning his head to look at them both.

            He grinned as both girls gave him perfunctory glares as they moved up the steps. As the group stepped out of the snow and into the atrium Chris raised an eyebrow. If he had known this would be the celebratory purpose of the evening, he would have come prepared.

            Cecily Montague stood at the head of the receiving line as usual; her husband next to her but it was Edward and Jasmine next to one another which drew the group's attention. Both Ed's and Jas's parents looked ecstatic on either side of the couple, and that and the huge rock upon the hand that Jasmine was trying to hide conveyed the announcement of the evening quite clearly. The disguised misery on Jasmine and Edward's faces, only visible to their friends, inferred that this decision had not been shared with them for a long period of time beforehand.

            Cordelia's brow furrowed as she looked around the group, which had suddenly quieted as they slowly moved forward towards the families. Then realization dawned as Jasmine smiled politely at an elderly man while she twisted a large ring around her finger. Cordelia may have looked out of her league, but she wasn't dumb and Chris was slightly impressed as she figured it out for herself. She may not be such a problem.

            Problems came to his mind as the group of seventh years approached Mrs. Montague. She smiled widely at Sheraton, being one of Mrs. Snape's tea circle and kissed the young girl on both cheeks.

            Whispers trailed down the line towards Chris as he politely kissed Mrs. Montague's hand as she fluttered over his rakish grin and gave Mr. Montague the same grin as they shook hands.

            "...only today? I'm so -"

            "Save the sympathy Sher, just have some alcohol ready for me..."

            "Ed -"

            "Shut it, Ian."

            "Shutting it."

            Chris gave Ed's hand a squeeze as they shook.

            "Thanks for coming, Chris."

            "My best wishes." Chris offered quietly to Jasmine as he kissed her palm. She shut her eyes quickly then flashed him a quick smile.

            As they waited for the rest of their group to trail through the line, Chris hovered with Sheraton and Julian.

            "This is bad," Ian murmured.

            "You think?" Sheraton asked archly, handing him his robe as she flipped her hair over her shoulder, revealing the skimming long sleeved and hemmed amber silk dress that was both demure and enticing.

            Sheraton rolled her eyes as Julian's jaw dropped. She turned to Chris. "We need to get both of them quite drunk, and quite away from one another. If we could also get Pucey into another county, it would be helpful."

            Chris turned around and bit his tongue as Adrian was lingering in front of Jas, ignoring the blatant glares he was receiving from Ed, Mr. Montague, and Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson. Mrs. Montague was embroiled in a discussion with someone at the top of the line and Jasmine was flirting as well as she was getting from Adrian.  As Adrian finally turned away with a smug grin on his face, Sheraton swore under her breath. "This is going to be hell."

            Hell is often referred to in circles of torment and pain, with legions of devils watching over the punished. As Chris idly drank from the glass of what was supposed to be watered wine, he couldn't help but draw the comparison. Hagan House circled around the round rotunda with the mosaic Montague crest, a staircase circling around the atrium up six levels. As all the guests had arrived, the two families with their children had taken their place in front of the roaring fire. Chris and his friends watched from the third floor, on a right angle from Ed and Jas. Sheraton leaned over the rail, Ian resting a hand on her shoulder. Miles was on the other side of the couple from Chris and as the words of the public ceremony began, the two boys exchanged a loaded look.

            Blythe Parkinson raised his glass of red wine to first the Montagues and then the assembled guests. "My family and my daughter agree to the joining of our house to that of Montague. I entrust my treasure, my first born daughter, pure, fertile and true to our World - into your family and son's safekeeping."

            Roberto Montague stepped forward as he raised his own glass in a circular movement to indicate all his guests. "My family and son agree to the joining of our house to that of Parkinson. We will honour and cherish your treasure as she represents renewal and joy for our family, protecting her and her children at all costs."

            The two men faced one another as they drank the glass of blood red liquid down, and time seemed to holds its breath for a moment as the two men whirled as one, arms extended.

            Jasmine's chest expanded as she drew in a deep breath.

            Edward lifted his chin.

            The two glasses smashed into the fire and the guests burst into applause for the new couple.

            Jasmine bit her lip and shut her eyes tightly as she released the gush of air.

            Edward returned his gaze to the floor.

            It was sealed.

            As those assembled move forwards to congratulate not the couple, but their parents, Ed lifted his head and caught Chris's gaze. Chris nodded his head behind him, to indicate the second parlour in which their group had assembled at these parties for the last several years. Ed nodded. Sher and Ian moved back into the parlour with Neil and Cordelia. Aemelia and Adrian had not watched the ceremony, turning to the selection of liquors in the room. Miles moved closer to Chris as both watched Ed extend a hand to his new betrothed. Jasmine started to recoil until he inclined his head towards their destination. Cautiously, she placed her hand into his and allowed him to lead her upstairs. Chris and Miles watched this scene quietly. It would have been a conciliatory moment if not for the anger on Jasmine's face.

            When the couple reached the third landing, after receiving good wishes from those now mingling around the large manor, both faces were stormy as they dropped their clasp. They swept into the parlour, Miles following. Chris put his glass down on the flat wooden rail. He'd lost his taste for wine for the night.

            The parlour was only partially lit but living in dungeons accustomed you to the dark, so for the seventh years it felt quite homey on these nights. Jasmine had moved straight towards Sheraton, clasping her hands in hers as she ranted about the day.

            "Bloody gave it to me as a present, expecting me to jump up and down with joy! The most underhanded way of telling me -"

            "Oh halt the dramatics express, Jas. It's as decent as any other way of telling you." Ed settled on the couch opposite, with a full glass of whiskey in his hand.

            "But you weren't told _today_, Montague." she shot back, hands on her hips.

            "No, I had the bloody ring box thrust at me the day I came home, _Parkinson._ Not that you're going to be one for long..." Ed took a shot of the whiskey. Jasmine picked up the vase in front of her and flung it at him. Miles reacted quickly, pointing his wand on the vase. "Wingardium Leviosa!" All but Jas and Ed rolled their eyes, Miles had been the first in their year to pick up that particular charm and never let any of them forget it. As the vase was safely lowered back to a side table, Chris sat next to Ed.

            "Stop antagonizing her, man. It'll only make things worse in the long run."

            When Ed took another sip of his drink, muttering "She started it," it was Chris' turn to roll his eyes.

            Jasmine had moved from Sheraton to Adrian, who was whispering quickly into her ear as he glared at Edward over her shoulder. Jasmine was clenching her fists in the fabric of his over robe as she listened to him.  Adrian smirked as he spoke, his hands trailing down her back to pull her even closer against him.

            That seemed to be the breaking point for Edward. His eyes narrowed and he tossed back his drink. Chris laid a cautionary hand on his arm, "Ed – don't stoop to his level…" he tried to caution of his friend but his touch was shaken off.

            "Shut it, Chris," he stood and locked eyes with Adrian. "Hands off, Pucey." The uneasy tension which had existed between the two boys through out the past years was escalating before their friends eyes.

            Jasmine spun to glare at her betrothed, "Screw you Ed."

            He graced her with a chilly smile. "Remember, Jas – all in good time."

            Adrian growled, stepping past the fuming Jasmine. "Those are fighting words, Montague. And my fist has been itching to interact with your face all year."

            The two boys approached one another and began to warily circle as Edward sneered at his fellow house mate. "Just try it, Pucey. I have every right to address Jasmine as I wish, along with every right to fling you into the snow. Remember who the master of Hagan house is."

            Aemelia had moved forward and was tugging at Adrian's arm, he turned slightly to listen to her. His face darkened but as she spoke and then became more insistent, he seemed to relent. He gave Jasmine a long look and then turned back stiffly to face Edward. "As lovely as this evening has been, I'm feeling somewhat ill and will return home. My felicitations to the… **happy** couple."  

            Chris lowered his head as Adrian stalked out, with a dark look for both parts of the so called joyful couple.

            Jasmine stalked over to Ed,  and smacked him on the chest. "You miserable, misbegotten –" She would have continued if he hadn't taken the opportunity to make use of his considerably greater strength.

            In a single abrupt movement, he caught her wrists and held him fast against him. "Learn your place, my dear – by my side and _no one_ else's. I think you and I need to circulate amongst the rest of the party now." He let her go for a moment, but quickly caught one of her hands again to tuck it into the crook of his elbow. Their gazes caught and a war seemed to wage between the two. The war of wills ended as quickly as it began as Jasmine tossed her golden hair over her shoulder, seeming both angry and unsettled at the resolve Edward was suddenly showing.

            Chris could see she was fuming internally but she seemed to bite her tongue, though she sent a clear look towards Sheraton and Aemelia. The couple left the room a united front, though their stiff backs denoted much more than good posture.

            Chris turned to Miles, who was wearing an amused smile on his face. Sheraton and Aemelia had their heads bent close to one another while Julian was watching the two girls carefully as he spoke to Cordelia and Neil.  Chris filed the scene away in his mind and took a sip of his whiskey, hiding his frown behind his glass as he stood and moved to the window, to watch as the snow began to fall over the night.

            It was still snowing the next afternoon as Chris made his way towards the greenhouse, walking briskly under the covered walkways that crossed most of Achainni Manor, the home of the Warrington family since the middle of the 16th century. Ironically, it had been a monastery until Henry VIII's campaign against them. The Warringtons were looking to relocate from a smaller home in the countryside and it had been offered to them by the crown itself for a very reasonable price: the murder of the Abbot.

            For the Warringtons then, and now – were no simple noble farmers.

            They had been the hired killers of both the Wizarding and to a smaller extent the Muggle world as long as Hogwarts had been in existence. Henry VIII had remained a great patron of the family once his simple request, or Gaelic _achainni_, had been granted – the Warringtons had supplied the executioners for both Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard.

            Warringtons never sullied their own hands, merely provided those who would and the means to accomplish the task. They never formally joined the side of any cause, preferring to remain friendly to both sides and retain the ability to retreat to their country sanctuary when battles became too intense.

            It was a bloody legacy that Chris bore. But, his parents had always taught him of the wisdom of their family and in the ability to see beyond such a sullying concept. His family had a long tradition of marrying for love, of finding solace in the arms of your family as an escape from the world's reality. The events of the previous night, the fire in Jasmine's eyes as she held back from running down the steps of Hagan House into her awaiting carriage impressed the reality of an unhappy marriage upon Chris, and strengthened his resolution to continue the family tradition.

            His pace sped up as he approached the greenhouse to see he was a few minutes late. He could see a figure pacing through the shaded green glass. He opened the door, shucking off his robe in the sudden and humid heat, leaving the soft sounds of snow falling into a peaceful quiet but for the sounds of stilettos on brick. He wasn't quite prepared for Alicia as she flung herself at him. Chris staggered slightly as he wrapped his arms around her.

            She pulled back to look up at him searchingly, "What's wrong?" she asked.

            He gave her a small smile, "Nothing's wrong, love – I just need to talk to you."

            Her eyes narrowed at him. "I don't believe you, Christopher."

            Chris pouted as he led Alicia towards a bench, "I'm hurt."

            She remained standing as he sat, hands on her hips. He took the moment to rake her with his eyes; she was dressed for dinner already in a black wrap dress with subtle patterns of gold and silver vines running through the fabric. She looked bloody fantastic to his hungry eyes – he hadn't seen her in days.

            She smacked his shoulder, seeming to be resolute in her annoyance with him. "Stop drooling."

            "Can I help it when I have such a… appetizing sight right in front of me?" He tugged at her hand and was successful in pulling her down into his lap.

            She was still unrelenting though, as she placed a palm on his cheek. "What happened that made it so important for you to speak to me before dinner?" Alicia and her parents customarily joined the Warringtons for a post Yule dinner but Chris had sent her an owl asking her to meet him an hour earlier.

            He gave a half hearted smile. "You know me too well." It was easier to let her think she did, at least. He had purposely let the language of his note hint at some sort of worrisome event.

            Alicia simply raised an un-amused eyebrow at him and motioned for him to continue speaking.

            He shook his head, "You're becoming more Slytherin every day, you know."

            "Christopher. Stop trying to change the subject. I want to know why there was such urgency in you seeing me." That damned Gryffindor pride was rearing its ugly head again and Chris grimaced internally as he spoke.

            "There were two engagements announced last night. Neil and Cordelia, and Ed and Jas."

            Alicia raised a blonde eyebrow. "Montague and Parkinson, hm? That must have been a joyful celebration." As much as the Slytherin house presented a front to the school, the clashing of personalities was obvious to their year mates in all houses. Perhaps not to the Hufflepuffs, but neither the Ravenclaws nor Gryffindors were blind.   
            "It was diverting to say the least."

            Alicia sighed. "So Hunting season has begun, then. No real surprise there. " The yearly ritual of seventh years pairing off as they prepared to leave Hogwarts and enter the real world was well known to all.

            Chris nodded, taking her hand in his. "It has. That's why I wanted to confer with you before I spoke to your father tonight."

            Alicia inhaled softly, her eyes darkening with tears as she looked at him. "You… really?"

            "Really, love. You, us – this is right. We both know it. We can be good together and I can't think of anyone else that I would want to live a life with. I know you think me somewhat of a misogynist…"

            She tried to sniff at his self-deprecating comment but her tears turned it into an unladylike snort and he smiled, brushing a light kiss against her lips. He brushed the tears off of her cheeks as he pulled her closely to him.

            Alicia sighed and opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, leaning against his broad chest as her hands strayed. One caressed his back, sending shivers up his spine as she tangled her fingers in his hair. Chris splayed one hand across her lower back as the other slid up her thigh, moving underneath the fabric of her skirt. A rhythm developed between the two, the sound of quick breaths indrawn between drawn out kisses as both tried to survive without oxygen. Alicia's sighs were music to Chris's ears as he took advantage of her low cut neckline to lave kisses across her collarbone and downwards, sucking on the pale skin of the curve of her breast. She gasped and pulled his mouth back up to hers with abandon

            When they broke away a few minutes later, both were trying to regain their breaths, that mingled together, and Alicia smiled smugly as Chris shook his head at her.

            "I am trying to be eloquent, here – you need to stop being so distracting."

Her tears were back as she gave him a trembling smile as he continued.

 I know I can be a prat sometimes, but you know that I all I want is for you to be happy,  and to keep you that way as long as I live."

            She drew in a long breath and her smile seemed as though it would split her face. "You make me so utterly happy, Christopher."

            Chris returned the smile. "Then I'm happy. And I'll speak to your father tonight, perhaps arrange for us to be formally betrothed over Easter break?"

            Alicia's smile and swift kisses were all he needed as he pulled her to him again, and could almost forget about the world outside of this warm haven in the cold night, where the silence was not broken by cries, but of their own sounds of joy.


End file.
